Sideways
by F1yMordecai
Summary: It was just a blip, but it was there: Hisana’s soul has been reincarnated. Byakuya decides to take this mission into his own hands, only to find that she doesn’t remember him or who she was…or does she? ---Takes place after Night of Seven. LEMON Content
1. Prologue

She was happy once. She had found a love, but couldn't return it. Her heart had not been whole in a long time. How could she give someone a heart that was broken? She couldn't, so she didn't.

But she was happy once.

Then darkness took her for a long time. A thick blanket of darkness, warmth and comfort cradled her. It was nice to be at peace after years of pain. But a blinding white light interrupted her peaceful world and the pain returned. After that, she wasn't the same anymore.

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_You know it ain't easy_

_For these thoughts here to leave me_

_There's no words to describe it_

_In French or in English_

_Well, diamonds they fade_

_And flowers they bloom_

_And I'm telling you_

_These feelings won't go away_

_They've been knockin' me sideways_

_They've been knockin' me out lately_

_Whenever you come around me_

_These feelings won't go away_

_They've been knockin' me sideways_

_I keep thinking in a moment that_

_Time will take them away_

_But these feelings won't go away_

Citizen Cope, "Sideways"

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**Author's Notes:**

I love this song. I always listen to music while I write. It's inspiring and can set the tone. This song by Citizen Cope fit perfectly with this story, so in honor of that, this fic will be called "Sideways."

If you hadn't picked up on the summary by now, this is a Hisana and Byakuya story, where Hisana has reincarnated, but has lost her memories. I'm warning you now, this will have a bittersweet ending, so get ready to break out the tissues and that pint of ice cream you keep for emergencies. This story is rated M for a reason, mainly for lemon content. If you are underage and read it, don't complain to me, I gave you fair warning ;-)

I hope you enjoy my latest story, which takes place after _Night of Seven_. Please read and review as always. ^_^


	2. The Blip

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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The late afternoon sun came down on him in rays, bathing his pale face with warmth. The seasons had begun to change and there was a light, cool breeze making its way through the garden and his raven locks. Kuchiki Byakuya closed his dark grey eyes, taking in the silence of the moment. He stood amongst the Chinese bellflowers, his favorite, and couldn't help but think of the past…of a time when he was happy.

It was short-lived, but exceedingly worthwhile. Over fifty years since his wife, Hisana, passed away, not a day went by that she didn't cross his thoughts. She loved taking walks in the garden on days like this. She could clasp her tiny hand in his, leading the way through the weaving path.

The sound of a throat clearing took Byakuya away from those memories, only to find himself looking at the spitting image of his late wife: Hisana's little sister—and his adoptive family—Kuchiki Rukia. She questioned him with her jeweled violet eyes, peering through the long dark bang hung between her large orbs. She was even a similar height to Hisana, although her features were harder from years of struggling for survival on the streets of Rukongai.

"Nii-sama, are you all right?" her full voice asked. She reached out to touch his sleeve in comfort, but withdrew her hand almost immediately. Even after everything they had been through, Byakuya still kept her at bay. He had told her the truth about who she was, but it meant breaking his oath to his wife. Although they had grown closer as siblings after her near execution and the struggle in Hueco Mundo, he wouldn't let down his walls completely.

"I am fine," his baritone broke through the air. Years of concealing his emotions on the surface could easily trick anyone into believing his stoic features. Except for Rukia, somehow…and that confounded Shinigami-substitute.

Rukia raised a short brow at his response, but decided not to press the issue. "I need to speak with you." She stood her ground and raised her head up high.

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. "May we sit?" Rukia gestured to the corner sitting room. He nodded and led the way. They kept their distance in the room, Byakuya sitting with his back to the sliding doors, while Rukia kept a strong posture facing him. She took a deep breath. She knew what she came here to do.

"I have requested to remain stationed in Karakura, Nii-sama." Rukia's face remained serious about business, but he could sense there was something more to the matter. Her usually hard eyes seemed to glow with renewed life.

"May I inquire as to why?" Byakuya crossed his arms, slipping his hands into the folds of his sleeves. "The war is over and hollows have dwindled to manageable numbers."

"Yes, and Karakura was my original post, appointed by Captain Ukitake." Rukia knew the only way of winning this battle was by logic.

"That is true, but I question your motives, not your assignment. There is more to your request than what you are revealing."

Rukia's face nearly flushed at Byakuya's insight, and suppressed the red from rising to her cheeks by thinning her lips. "You are correct in your assumption, Nii-sama," she swallowed before continuing. "My comrade relationships in the real world have strengthened after our ordeals. I wish to stay stationed in Karakura to protect them."

Byakuya drew in a breath before making his final decision. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke. "Very well. Your intentions are honorable and therefore I will respect your request. Let me see your papers so I can sign them."

Rukia grinned widely, pulling the paperwork out from her robes and presenting them to Byakuya. He initialed the documents and handed them back to her. "Thank you, Nii-sama," Rukia bowed deeply, bringing her head to the mats in front of her.

"Rukia?" Byakuya said as she stood to leave. "If Kurosaki Ichigo lays a finger on you on any way, I will not hold back."

She blushed and bit back a laugh. "I told him you would say that."

"Then he knows I mean it."

Rukia flashed him a bright smile before departing. Blood relative or not, Rukia was a Kuchiki Princess, and he would play his role as the protective older brother. Even still, he had once held that look in his eyes: the soft glow of finding love. He internally shuddered at the thought that one day the hotheaded Vizard would storm through Kuchiki Manor as one of his kin. That boy would not make his next birthday if it were up to him.

Byakuya sighed and lifted himself up to pour a cup of tea. If steaming green tea wouldn't calm his nerves at this point, he wasn't sure what would. A light rap on the side of the open door drew his attention away from the soothing drink in his hands.

"Pardon me, Captain Kuchiki-sama," a timid voice came from the doorway. Out stepped Nemu, the Vice-Captain of the Twelfth Division. She had always been of average height, but her frame was small and her eyes remained sad from years of abuse. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was simply a twisted creation of Captain Kurotsuchi.

"Yes, Nemu?"

"I apologize for the unannounced entrance, but Mayuri-sama has requested your presence in the Shinigami Research Institute." Nemu kept her head low, accustomed to showing respect to all others, whether she wanted to or not.

_Kurotsuchi?_ He and Byakuya had never gotten along, so this request was rather surprising. Byakuya was sure he did not want to step foot into the mad scientist's laboratory unless it was absolutely necessary. "May I inquire as to what this is about?"

Nemu shook her head, her long braid moving ever so slightly. "I'm afraid that's classified, sir."

"Is this a Soul Society matter?"

"No, sir. Mayuri-sama requested Captain Kuchiki-sama personally."

Byakuya swallowed his sip of tea, already beginning to churn in his stomach. "Proceed." He placed the ceramic cup on the wooden table with a muted clunk. Whatever Mayuri was up to was never good news.

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In the dim lighting of Mayuri's personal office, the skeletal features of the scientist's facial makeup stood out in the metal room. He looked like a smiling mad man happily working away to the clack of the computer keyboard. His white hands moved furiously across the keys, blue nails catching the green glow of the monitor light every so often. He muttered to himself as he typed.

This had to be impossible. In all his years of researching souls their modification, he had never seen anything like this appear before. His feline grin widened at the prospect of having a new subject to research on. That is, if a certain Captain would agree to the terms. Even if Byakuya would not submit, Mayuri would carry out experiments on his own.

"Mayuri-sama, I have returned with Captain Kuchiki-sama as requested." Nemu's soft voice echoed against the bare metal walls.

"Goddammit, Nemu, it took you long enough!" Mayuri cursed to his daughter, throwing a glass of water in her direction. It smashed in front of her, spilling its contents and shattering at her feet. "Now clean that up and leave us!" His shrill voice irritated Byakuya's noble ears. Nemu immediately crouched to pick up the shards with her bare hands.

Accustomed to having servants, Byakuya stood as Nemu cleared the floor, placing the broken glass into a fold in her hakama. Still, he couldn't help but feel disrespect towards his fellow captain. Servitude was one thing, but sheer cruelty was another. Finished with her task at hand, Nemu bowed and left the room. She had even cleaned up her own blood spilt in the process.

The click of the heavy metal door closing left an empty silence in the room. The buzz of computer monitors and the clacking of the keyboard were the only things filling the void. Byakuya couldn't take being in this mechanical existence much longer. "You requested my presence, Captain Kurotsuchi?"

"I found something of interest to you, Captain Kuchiki." Mayuri turned in his large chair, motioning for Byakuya to approach the screen. Byakuya complied; his captain's haori with "Division 6" written on the back barely flowed in the absence of fresh air in the room. He came closer to the giant screens, standing in the middle next to Mayuri, bathed in green light. His eyes searched the information on the screen, but he honestly could barely comprehend this technology.

"Did you see it?" Mayuri slyly grinned. He had the giddiness of a schoolboy torturing ants with a magnifying glass.

"What should I be looking for?" Byakuya's eyes narrowed. The flickering of the monitors were beginning to give him a headache.

"Right…there!" the scientist pointed to the screen with his single long fingernail. Byakuya squinted to make out what Mayuri was focused on. It was just a blip on the screen.

"I see something, but it is faded. What am I looking at?"

"This is a layout of Karakura town and its souls. I've been keeping an eye on it since the humans first invaded Soul Society. And that," he tapped the screen, making the image zoom in on the flickering dot, "that is something I'm very interested in."

Byakuya felt his brow furrow. "I understand, but how is this human soul of interest to me as well?"

"This isn't just any soul, Captain Kuchiki…

"It's your wife's."

Byakuya's mouth suddenly went dry. Only one word could escape his lips, "How?"

"I don't know, and that's why I want to experiment. Reincarnation is possible, but this is the first time I've seen a soul that has died from an illness in Soul Society reappear. This shouldn't have happened, she should have stayed dead. Her disease attacked the chain link and soul sleep. When she died, she should have ceased to exist."

Byakuya tried to swallow but his mouth was parched and his head began to spin. Only after a few moments did he fully comprehend Mayuri's intentions. "You want to experiment," he spoke flatly with warning heavy in his voice.

"Yes," Mayuri piped up, "If I could get a team down there and capture her, we could discover what happened and—" Mayuri's voice was suddenly cut off, a strong hand gripping his windpipe.

"You do and I will not hesitate to kill you with my bare hands." For the first time since Rukia had been nearly killed in Hueco Mundo, Byakuya's eyes flashed with rage. His hand pressed harder against the mad scientist's throat. He kept the pressure on until Mayuri's eyes started to roll to the back of his head—then he quickly let go. Mayuri doubled over in his chair, hacking and attempting to catch his breath. Byakuya seemed remotely satisfied until Mayuri started to laugh.

"Now, now Captain Kuchiki, you wouldn't let simple things like emotions get in the way of your duty, would you?" The scientist's voice was harsh from the strangling attempt. Byakuya's eyes narrowed.

"I have no duty here," his voice dripped icily.

"Oh, but you do. You see, I've already sent my men to fetch the woman. If you want to stop them, you'll have to take this mission over for yourself."

_Sadistic bastard._ Byakuya felt his breathing grow ragged, trying to contain another emotional outburst. "I'm taking the mission," a fist coiled at his side, "but I'm not giving her over to you."

"We'll see about that," Mayuri grinned. He pressed a long white finger into a button on an intercom. "Nemu!" he shouted into the speaker.

"Yes, Mayuri-sama?" Nemu's voice sounded clear over the speakers in the metal room.

"Open a gate to the real world. Captain Kuchiki has accepted the mission."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

Happy Early Valentine's Day everyone! I decided to start posting this because I need some feedback to keep going.

This story will not be upated as quickly as _Night of Seven_ was, so stick with me please!


	3. Discovery

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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She sat in a garden she had been in so many times before. Cherry blossom trees surrounded her and were nearing the end of their season. The soft pink petals fell around her, gracefully moving past her body carried by the light breeze. She felt warm and at peace. She always felt at peace here.

She could feel a man's presence approach behind her, resting his large hands on her small shoulders. She knew him, somehow, from long ago. He felt strong and supportive. She leaned back into his body, taking in the moment. He spoke but she couldn't hear his words.

"Mariko?"

Yoshitsune Mariko cracked her eyes open to the harsh fluorescent lights in the sterile room. Her glass-like orbs the color of glacier ice surveyed her surroundings. She ran a petite hand through her stark white locks and stifled a yawn. "Oh crap, how long was I out?" She stood up quickly, straightening her purple scrubs.

The nurse who woke her gave a small smile. "Only ten minutes or so. You've been on shift for what, 23 hours now? You need to go home."

Mariko shook her head, rubbing her large eyes. "No, no, I'm fine. I need this attending position. Ishida-san will not let me have this job over the other fellows unless he knows I'm dedicated." She grabbed her doctor's coat and stethoscope off a chair across from her. "I won't go back to the city."

"What's so bad about Tokyo? I mean, except for the price of everything being insanely high." The nurse, Haru Gina, helped Mariko into her coat and handed her a piping hot cup of coffee.

"My ex-husband lives there," Mariko snarled. She blew into the Styrofoam cup before taking a sip of the bitter liquid. She grimaced at the horrible taste. The young doctor preferred jasmine tea, but coffee worked when she needed that extra kick in the ass.

"Ugh, Ex's," Gina rolled her green eyes. "Don't I know what that's like." She followed her friend out the employee locker room, her long cherry-colored hair flipping behind her. "And don't worry about Ishida-san. He's the hospital administrator. You should worry less about politics and more about your patients."

"I **do** worry about my patients. I think that's the problem he has with me." The few times she met Ishida Ryuuken, the administrator of Karakura Hospital, the man had remained cold and stoic. He was all politics, having been away from patients for too long. From what she heard through rumors floating around the building, he even carried that attitude home.

"I don't have a problem with either of those things," a deep male voice suddenly cut in. The two women froze and turned to see none other than Ishida Ryuuken standing behind them in a perfectly pressed navy blue suit. He peered at Mariko first, then moved his attention to Gina.

"Leave us," he spoke directly to the younger of the two women. The slim nurse quickly ducked her head with wide eyes, then turned on her heel and darted away.

"I guess you want me to apologize for what you heard me say, but I won't." Mariko met his gaze, never one to be intimated by men.

"On the contrary, you are one of the only doctors on staff here that has the courage to stand up to me. I need more people like you here, Dr. Yoshitsune." Ryuuken raised an eyebrow at her with his dark eyes stilled behind expensive frames. His white hair rivaled the lightness of her own.

"Wait," Mariko swallowed, "You said 'one of the only doctors on staff.' Does that mean…"

"Yes, you have the pediatric attending position. You'll make an excellent addition to Karakura Hospital." He adjusted his already perfectly straight tie.

Mariko felt her ice-blue eyes grow wide with shock. "Th-Thank you, Ishida-san."

"Don't thank me too soon, Dr. Yoshitsune. You have yet to sit through one of my board meetings." He walked past the petite woman, making his way to his office. "You've been here for 23 hours. Go home and report back in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Mariko grinned.

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Byakuya broke through the realms expecting to find Mayuri's men waiting for him. This was the mad-scientist's plan all along: to drag him through a memory in the past and laugh as he pulled the strings of his puppets. Instead, Mayuri's unseated officers lay in an unconscious heap at his feet.

"Oi, Byakuya-boo," Shihouin Yoruichi called out, immediately flash-stepping into view. Her golden eyes glimmered in the setting sun, her dark purple hair kept up away from her mocha skin. The Flash Goddess hadn't changed one bit in a hundred years. She shoved a strong foot into one of the Shinigami. "These men with you?"

"Not in the slightest. And you will refrain from calling me that." Byakuya sheathed Senbonzakura now that the danger had been eliminated.

"Aww, what 'sa matter, little Byakuya? All grown up and can't take the name calling?" Yoruichi flicked the white headpiece he wore—the kenseikan—that indicated he was the head of the Kuchiki Clan. Byakuya caught her wrist after the action and shot her a death glare.

"You're no fun anymore," Yoruichi pouted, sticking a pink tongue out at her former shunpo student.

"Demon cat," he murmured.

"A name I wear with pride," the bronze woman shot back. Her lips curved up into a feline grin. "I see you haven't completely lost your touch."

"That remains to be seen." Byakuya let her wrist go, crossing his arms in the process. He looked to the skies in time to see the gate closing.

Yoruichi watched his straight face but could see the turmoil behind his eyes. He knew. She walked up to his side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do you still want to find her?"

He felt his brow furrow. "You knew?"

The Shihouin beauty nodded, thinning her lips. "We figured it out. You know he'll want to talk to you before you do anything."

"I just want to know how she's back."

"So do we. Will you at least listen to him?" Yoruichi's golden eyes pleaded to the Sixth Division captain. She was serious—she hardly ever had that look.

Reluctantly, Byakuya nodded and let the former captain lead the way.

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Closing his eyes into a meditative state, Byakuya focused his reiatsu for a single purpose. When he opened them, he was surrounded by reiraku: spirit threads. Most of the threads strewn across Karakura were white, but he could point out several strong reiraku and a few crimson threads. The stronger white threads belonged to Rukia's comrades: Inoue Orihime, Ishida Uryuu and Sado Yasutora. The two crimson threads he spotted not far away belonged to Rukia and Kurosaki Ichigo. His protective brother instinct kicked in when he noticed their threads were nearly intertwined. He sneered, mentally taking note to kill the boy later.

The noble's grey eyes searched the threads, looking for one in particular. It was difficult to pinpoint a specific reiraku amongst the crowd, but someone of his high spiritual energy would have a much better chance. He silently bounded from rooftop to rooftop letting his instincts guide him.

And then he found it.

The thread was unusual, glowing lilac against the typical white ones. It fluctuated from solid to translucent. Byakuya's eyes narrowed. This was certainly out of the ordinary. He had never known anyone's reiraku to fluctuate the way hers did, or its color change. He followed the thread along its path, finally leading him to a higher floor of an apartment building.

Byakuya felt his breath catch as he watched a figure approach the window. A petite woman in her late 20's appeared and leaned against her balcony. She closed her glacier blue eyes and lifted her china doll face into the night sky. Her unruly white hair came down above her shoulders, feathering out at the ends. Stray bangs hung between her large eyes like when she was Hisana. Even if she was in a different body in a different time, it seems her original spirit retained some of its natural appearance.

He wanted to approach her, to get closer, but he couldn't bring himself to. He stayed yards away, watching her from that distance. Her creamy skin shimmered in the moonlight when she moved. She wore a white camisole shirt and purple shorts. Her legs were as long and smooth as he remembered. She opened her eyes and he noticed they were harder than before. Her orbs were emotionless on the surface and only a light flame burned within. What had happened to her in this life?

She shifted her gaze and seemed to look directly at him. He watched her expression change as if she was searching for something. It was almost as if she could see him. She sighed and ran a tired hand through her angelic locks, losing contact with him..

Byakuya's eyes widened when she turned to walk back inside. He was sure he couldn't breathe at this point. It wasn't her motion that caught him off guard…it was what was on her back. Nestled between her shoulder blades was a large tattoo: a visualization of his final Bankai step, Shuukei Hakuteiken.

The White Imperial Sword stared back at him. It was a little different painted on her skin: a cherry blossom tree sprung up from the center with its branches extending into the respective wings. Wispy clouds formed the shape of the white wings of reiatsu that grew on his body during this final step. An arc creating a halo connected the branches and wings.

He finally swallowed the lump that had built up in his throat. This had to be a sign that a sliver of her memory was still there.

It was really her.

Taking shaky breaths, Byakuya made his way back to Urahara's shop, unsure of what his next step would be. He wasn't used to this: not knowing what to do. However, when it came to Hisana, he would throw all caution to the wind. No one affected him the way she had. He slammed the sliding door open to the back room. Urahara Kisuke had been waiting for his return.

"You found her, I take it?" The shopkeeper peered at the tall Shinigami captain from under his green and white striped bucket hat. A shadow cast on his blonde hair and his green-grey eyes.

Byakuya nodded and sank to the floor, placing his zanpaktou at his side. He held his head low, unable to keep the straight face he had spent years perfecting. His eyes felt like they were shaking from the shock. "She remembers me," he heard himself say.

Urahara lifted a brow in question. "I find that highly unlikely."

The dark-haired noble lifted his head to meet the former captain's disbelieving gaze. "She remembers me," he repeated.

"How do you know?" Urahara's usual singsong voice was replaced with a serious tone.

"I saw something she would have never known if she had not retained her memories. I am sure."

The shopkeeper nodded with understanding. "I can give you a special gigai and some potion to help ease your spirit into the body. You've never used one before so the transition is going to be difficult, especially for someone with your spiritual power."

"You were successful with your gigai transfer. There is no reason for me to be concerned." Byakuya's face became serious with resolve.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You may not find what you want. She's a different person now, Captain Kuchiki. She may have some memories locked away in her soul, but there's no guarantee they can be brought to the surface." He paused and took a breath before saying the words he knew Byakuya did not want to hear. "Meeting this woman won't bring your wife back."

"I will be the judge of that."

Urahara lightly chuckled to ease the tension. "Are all Kuchiki's this stubborn?"

"Not stubborn. Persistent."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

I can't sleep :-( Anyway, I decided to upload.

After I wrote the beginning of this I realized it was a lot like the beginning  
of the Reese Witherspoon movie _Just Like Heaven_. Oops!  
Oh well, I did like that movie a lot though. Besides, it's just this first scene that is similar...


	4. Meeting

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Byakuya shifted in the hard plastic chair in the waiting room of the Emergency Room of Karakura Hospital. Either he was still getting used to sitting in a gigai or his buns had gone to sleep from the plastic hell he had been perched in for the past two hours. It was difficult to distinguish between the two at this point.

He looked over to the chair next to him where one of Urahara's modified souls, Tsumugiya Ururu, sat patiently completing a popular numbers game he learned was called "Sudoku." Her short legs dangled over the blue plastic chair, not reaching the linoleum floor. Her left arm was hung in a makeshift sling. Her dark eyes remained heavy with concentration while two long bangs hung down the center of her face. Her black hair was tied up in its usual pigtail style with a zigzag part.

"Does this usually take this long?" Ururu's timid voice finally piped up.

"I am unsure," Byakuya shrugged. "I have never waited in a public emergency room before."

"Me neither, Tessai-san heals wounds quickly." Her shoulders fell inward as usual and she did not lift her head when she spoke to the captain. "Would you like to go over the plan again, Kuchiki-sama?" For a brief moment, her wide eyes darted in Byakuya's direction.

"That would be ideal."

"Okay, I'm your niece and you are visiting from out of town. I was playing with a friend and hurt my arm. You brought me here because my parents are out of town."

"That is correct. Urahara has made guardian papers that grant permission for temporary custody of one Tsumugiya Ururu." He pulled paperwork out from the inner breast pocket of the black blazer he was wearing. "Apparently humans in the real world will not trust people's sworn words anymore."

"You haven't been here for a long time, Kuchiki-sama. Times have changed and humans are more protective and distrusting than they once were."

"It appears as such." Byakuya read over the papers again to make sure everything was in order. "How did Jinta cause you harm?"

"It was an accident." Ururu's face was serious. "Jinta likes to tease but he would never hurt me on purpose."

"I believe you." Byakuya took out his pocket watch to check the clock for what seemed like the thousandth time. The watch was a birthday gift from Rukia. She had saved up and purchased the silver antique in the real world. She even placed a picture of his beloved Hisana in the top section of the opening.

_Hisana._

Within the hour he would be meeting the woman his wife had become.

The sliver medallion slipped back into his slacks easily. He crossed a leg, the bottom of the black slacks hiked up to show argyle socks. Yoruichi insisted that he wear a casual suit with the patterned socks since that was what a "modern man of his stature" would wear. He did not understand the way these humans dressed and would much rather wear a Shinigami uniform.

"I…I think I have to call you something different, too, Kuchiki-sama," Ururu finally turned to look at the intimidating man, "If I am to be your niece."

"Astute observation. If you called me by my title, the illusion that you are a blood relative would drop." He thought for a second. "You may refer to me as…Byakuya-ojisan." He said the last part with hesitation.

Ururu's eyes went wide at his suggestion. "Are you sure? It sounds so informal."

"Our relationship must be believable. They would think otherwise if you referred to me with my full title."

"Understood, Kuchiki—I mean, Byakuya-ojisan." Ururu's tiny face flushed when she called the noble by his first name. She turned her attention back to the Sudoku puzzles.

Byakuya stared at his reflection in the black shine of his leather shoes. The man looking back him was almost a stranger. He hardly recognized himself in human clothes with the kenseikan ornaments missing—the "hair noodles" Yoruichi would commonly tease. In truth, he wasn't too fond of wearing them either. It meant he was head of the clan: a task appointed to him when he was far too young to lead his kin.

He had to grow up fast when he was given the position, leaving the hotheaded young boy behind. He could still feel the eyes of the elders look upon him with distaste when his grandfather presented him with the family heirloom: the silver-white, windflower silk scarf. He wasn't ready—they knew he wasn't ready—but somehow Kuchiki Ginrei was convinced otherwise.

_I am getting too old,_ his grandfather had said in confidence, _And you need to grow up. Your rash behavior is unbecoming of a young man your age._

He had been only fourteen in human years.

From then on he had to learn how to control his emotional outbursts. The head of the Kuchiki Clan must be calm and collected—every move had to be calculated. He would bottle up his frustration until it would nearly burst out of his skin, and then take it all out on a practice dummy. How many times had he completely shredded a tatami mat with Senbonzakura's blades? Too many to count.

Sometimes even that wasn't enough.

Heavy in his thoughts one day, Byakuya had been using his Bankai to vent his anger and nearly killed her. He hadn't even seen the servant step in the practice room. Senbonzakura knew better though and stopped Shuukei Hakuteiken midair. He had to commend the new servant—she hadn't even been terrified at the ugly death that could have happened. Instead, she seemed mesmerized by the white winged formation in front of her. Her amethyst eyes sparkled like jewels lit by Byakuya's blinding reiatsu. Her hair was so dark he could have sworn its highlights glimmered silver back at him.

_Are you insane or just stupid?_ He snarled at the young woman. _I could have killed you!_

_Neither, my Lord. And I don't believe you would have killed me._ She spoke with a small smile.

_Do you not fear me, peasant?_

The servant shook her head with the same smile. _I see nothing to fear._

"Tsumugiya Ururu?" the chipper voice of a nurse cut through Byakuya's memories. Ururu slowly raised her hand at the sound of her name being called. She pulled on the captain's sleeve to follow her.

"That's us, Byakuya-ojisan," she whispered. "Hold my hand to walk me there." Her tiny palm immediately reached for his large hand. She felt him stiffen from the sudden contact, but kept her grasp to strengthen the illusion that they were relatives. She walked behind him like a small child afraid of the world and her uncle would do anything to save her from it. Byakuya was impressed by the modified soul's ability to manipulate a situation.

"Aw, aren't you just adorable? What happened, sweetie?" The nurse with cherry-colored hair and emerald eyes bent down to Ururu.

Ururu played her shy part more so than usual and hid her face against her "uncle's" side. Byakuya responded for her. "She hurt her arm playing with a friend."

The nurse with her badge reading _Haru Gina_ looked at Byakuya with wide eyes. He had to have been the most handsome man in the entire hospital, but damn, he was intimating as all hell. Her doctor friend was in for a surprise. She swallowed, "Are you her father?"

"No," Byakuya shook her head, "I am her uncle. Just visiting."

"Name, please?"

"Kuchiki Byakuya."

"Come this way, Kuchiki-san and Ururu-chan. The doctor will be with you shortly."

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Mariko pulled back the curtain of the room partition to find herself looking into the deepest grey eyes she had ever seen. They had not been "extremely cold" as Gina had described. Instead she found a storm brewing behind grey clouds and the slightest hint of a silver lining.

Lifting up the chart at the end of Ururu's bed, she used the distraction to compose herself in front the exceedingly handsome man. "Ururu-chan?" She always made it a point to speak to the child first. The young girl nodded.

"I'm Dr. Yoshitune Mariko." She made sure to give her warmest smile to the scared girl. She flipped through the chart and addressed the man at Ururu-chan's beside. "And you are…Kuchiki Byakuya, Ururu-chan's uncle?"

"That is correct," the baritone responded.

_Woah._ His eyes had been intense but his voice was entirely something else. She could hear the intonations in his simple response that eluded a noble bloodline. His speech pattern had been practiced to hide emotion, but she detected the slightest waver in the undertones that exposed his true self: passionate, fiery and sincere. He was a man that would always go down fighting, even to his own demise.

Mariko internally smacked her head to jerk out of the trance. She had a job to do and it had only been a month since her divorce was finalized. "What happened here, Ururu-chan?"

Ururu fed the doctor lines as a drawn out story: how her parents had to leave town because of business, her uncle had come to be her guardian, and how her reckless friend Jinta had accidentally hurt her arm. Mariko listened but her subconscious kept drifting towards the man called Kuchiki Byakuya. He seemed so familiar.

The doctor lifted Ururu's arm out of the homemade sling and examined the girl's wrist. "This doesn't look bad," she trailed off. She lightly pressed around the joints and muscles searching for breaks. "It's swollen but I don't think it's broken. Let's take an x-ray just to make sure." The girl nodded.

"Kuchiki-san, I'm going to take Ururu to the x-ray room. I would ask that you remain here."

Byakuya furrowed his brow. "If it's all right with Ururu then I will stay. If not, I insist I accompany her."

Ururu put a small hand on Byakuya's shoulder. "It's okay, Byakuya-ojisan. I'll be right back." The girl hopped off the edge of the bed gracefully, her flip-flops clapped as she landed. She clasped her hand in Mariko's and walked away with the doctor.

Byakuya watched the woman now called Yoshitune Mariko. He was surprised to learn she had chosen medicine as her profession. As Hisana, she hated going back and forth to the Fourth Division to receive treatment. Mariko's specialized field was an interesting find, too. She now worked with children, something she couldn't produce in her short marriage to him. Hisana had always regretting not being able to provide an heir. This Mariko hadn't seemed to recognize him at first, but he felt her eyes drift in his direction as if she was trying to remember something. It gave him hope.

Once in the x-ray room, Mariko had her chance to interview the child on her own. She had her own reasons for not trusting strangers with children who weren't theirs.

"Ururu-chan, may I ask you something?"

The girl looked at the kind doctor with large eyes. She nodded.

"Kuchiki-san isn't really your uncle, is he?"

Ururu's dark orbs went wide at the doctor's accusation. She had tried her best acting, but the woman saw right through their façade. "Not by blood," she admitted. "He's an old friend of my guardian's though."

"I see," Mariko remarked. "Was he the one who really hurt you?" She sat back to gauge the child's reaction.

Ururu's calm eyes were suddenly lit with something else. She had felt insulted that anyone would accuse the noble Shinigami of such a thing.

"No," Ururu said firmly, "He would never hurt anyone he cares about." She hadn't known Byakuya for long, but she knew his history. He had shown his dedication to Rukia on the battlefield more than once.

"I believe you, Ururu-chan. I just had to ask to make sure." Mariko's sense of separating truth from lies had often come in handy on this job. Ururu was definitely not Byakuya's niece, but he was no threat to the child.

"I know that he can look scary sometimes," Ururu confessed. "A lot of people are afraid of him when they first meet him." She had to admit even she was intimidated by the captain's presence.

"Well," Mariko lightly smiled, "I see nothing to fear."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

hehe some background hints about how Byakuya & Hisana met... enjoy!

I've decided to upload as much as I have written...I need the feedback from you guys on the upcoming chapters...


	5. I Want to Know

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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"It's just a sprain, she'll be fine," Mariko told Byakuya. She wrapped Ururu's wrist with a light splint and medical bandage.

"That is a relief," he said with a breath. He studied the young doctor's movements as she skillfully tied the temporary cast. Every so often she would steal glances at the handsome man and catch his hooded grey eyes with her striking ice blues. Her reaction should have been to flush pink and look away, but instead she found herself in a comfortable non-verbal communication. It was as if they had done this before.

"All done," Mariko grinned to Ururu, cutting off the end of the gauze. "And now to decorate." She pulled out a pink bandage out of her coat and stuck it to the final seam of the gauze. "It matches your skirt."

"Thank you," Ururu said. She liked this Mariko. Her smile was warm and it made her feel safe. But she could see the woman's eyes were hard and had lived a difficult life. She wondered if Byakuya could find his old love still inside this woman.

Mariko watched Byakuya help the young girl off the tall hospital bed. He rose to his full height, easily towering over her petite frame. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Yoshitsune." He extended his large hand to hers.

"It was nothing," she said lowly, taking in his handshake. His hands were calloused as if from hard labor—something she did not expect. His fingers were long and thin, but strong. She caught a flash of the storm behind his grey orbs and a spark coursed through her. She hadn't even noticed they had stopped shaking hands moments ago.

"Well," he sighed, "Thank you again." He dropped his hand from hers and she immediately felt like she was missing something. He walked off with Ururu without saying another word.

She left a lump form in her throat. She couldn't move. Why couldn't she move? Why did she care? He was nothing but a stranger.

Then her feet began to move her towards the exit.

"Wait," she caught up with him as he was leaving through the doors. Her eyes darted between Byakuya and Ururu. "I don't usually do this, but…" She twisted her nervous hands around the tubes of her stethoscope. "Would you…like to meet me for coffee sometime, Kuchiki-san?"

Byakuya didn't grin but his face relaxed.

"I'm sorry," she continued, "I know that's sudden, but I just keep getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu."

"Maybe we met in a past life," he commented with the slightest corner of a smile.

"Heh," she scoffed, "I don't believe in that kind of stuff."

His face changed again back to its solid state but she could see something building behind those eyes. A few moments of silence passed before either of them spoke.

"That's okay you don't have to—"

"I prefer tea," he interrupted.

Mariko lifted the corner of her mouth. "So do I. Um… I get off shift at 8:00 tonight. There's a teahouse not far from here in the Karakura Shopping Center. Meet me there at 8:30?"

"Until then," Byakuya caught her eyes with his before he turned on his heel to leave. Then he was gone, walking with controlled posture and the young girl in tow.

The doctor let out the breath she had been holding. What had she gotten herself into now?

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Mariko hurriedly threw her scrubs off in the locker room to change. It was past 8:30 pm and she was running late for her date with the handsome stranger. She ran a brush through her white locks, snagging on a tangle. "Shit!" she cursed.

She finished getting ready in record speed, clocked out, and scurried towards the hospital exit. She checked her wrist watch for the time.

8:43 pm.

_Crap._

Luckily the Karakura Shopping Center was only a few blocks away. She quickened her pace at first but soon slowed down to normal walking speed. She had just finished freshening up, did she really want to meet this guy out of breath and a little ripe?

A blood curdling scream suddenly stopped Mariko in her tracks. Her doctor instinct kicked in: someone was in trouble.

The cry had come from somewhere close by, so she took a quick look around. There, down the end of a long alley was the figure of a young girl. Mariko drew closer, but something wasn't right. The girl was…translucent? And she had a broken chain coming off her chest. She pushed logic aside and pulled herself together. "Are you okay?" She asked the girl. She reached to place a hand on the girl's shoulder, but it went right through.

The girl looked at her with trembling eyes. "It's coming," she wailed.

"What's coming? I don't understand," Mariko felt her voice start to panic. How had her hand passed right through the girl in front of her?

"It's—" An explosion on the roof of the building across from them cut the girl off. "Oh Gods, it's here!"

"What? What are you—" and then she heard it. The shriek was more horrible than anything she had heard in her life. The noise erupted around her, completely filling her ears. It was empty and metallic sounding, like glass scraping across sheet metal. From the reflection in the girl's eyes, she saw a creature land the roof behind them. She turned, only to find the monster far more frightening than what she imagined.

It was a biped, standing on two legs, but it wielded four arms across the top its body. Its skin looked like weathered leather but was the color of rotting flesh. It reached its webbed claws into the air as a scream came from a white skull-like mask. A large, solid hole went all the way through its torso.

Blood pumped between Mariko's ears. The sounds around her became muffled. She looked into the creature's sunken eyes and saw nothing but darkness. It lunged for them, springing off the roof with one might jump. Its mask opened to reveal a terrifying mouth of distorted teeth and an endless emptiness.

She completely froze.

All of a sudden a figure stood between the monster and her, appearing out of thin air. He wore clothing from the Edo period: a black kosode and hakama, and a sleeveless white haori with the kanji "6" written on the back. White tabi socks and traditional woven sandals decorated his feet. A shimmering silver-white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He had midnight black hair and wore a type of headpiece.

The man pushed back the monster with a single finger and the creature went tumbling away. Mariko couldn't follow his movements—he was here one moment and back at the monster almost immediately. Then the glint of a katana caught her eye. It moved so fast through the air she didn't even see a blur. The monster's mask suddenly split in two and its entire body dissolved where it stood.

Mariko's gaze remained locked on the figure of the man. He turned, and her eyes went wide. There, seeming to float midair was the very man she running late to meet:

Kuchiki Byakuya.

She trailed him as he came down to street level and walked straight up to the girl she had tried to help. "I release you," was all he said, bringing his katana up over her head. He lightly touched the girl's forehead with the base of his katana's handle, leaving a kanji imprint behind. The girl smiled and faded away.

She wanted to speak, to yell, to say something—anything—but her mouth refused to work. It just stayed as a gaping hole ready for a fly to come through it. Byakuya didn't even catch her eye, he just turned away to walk off.

"Stop," Mariko's voice came out as a whisper. Why weren't her vocal chords working? Her hand reached out instinctively to grab the back of his white robe before he was gone. She watched in horror as it went through the fabric, the same as when she tried to comfort the girl.

_No._

_This can't be happening…_

_I won't let this happen._

"Stop!" she broke through the barrier that held her hostage and reached for him again. To her surprise, her hand caught the robe this time and tugged back. He spun to face her faster than she had seen anyone move before. His grey eyes were wide and shock was written across his face.

"You…you can see me?"

Mariko furrowed her white brows. "What kind of question is that? Of course I can see you!"

"But, how? Did you see me yesterday?" His baritone remained calm but there was a hint of panic building underneath.

"Yesterday? No, I just met you today. What the hell is going on?"

Byakuya thinned his lips and didn't reply.

"Answer me, Kuchiki Byakuya! What was that girl, what was that creature and what the **fuck** are you?!" Mariko was growing red from the fury racing through her veins. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being lied to.

The Shinigami captain winced at the harsh words that escaped the woman's mouth. He was tempted to tell her the truth, but at what cost? Explaining what he was would not break any of Soul Society's rules, but Mariko's spirit was fragile. One push in the wrong direction and he wouldn't know what to expect.

"Do you really want to know?" Byakuya said with hesitation.

She hadn't expected that kind of response. He suddenly looked concerned instead of cross. How bad could the truth be? Mariko swallowed and lifted her eyes to his.

"Yes."

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A small Shinigami looked to the skies. Her short brows narrowed in thought as her violet eyes searched deep inside her own soul.

"What's wrong, Rukia?" Kurosaki Ichigo walked up behind the petite girl, placing his large arms around her tiny shoulders. He rested his orange hair against her raven locks.

"I don't know…I thought I felt…" Rukia couldn't exactly put what she had felt into words. "Something familiar. I just don't know what it was."

"What did it feel like?" Over the past few months, the Shinigami substitute had learned how to communicate with the short-tempered girl. Sure, they still bickered, but their fights always ended with heavy breaths now instead of bruised egos. He gazed at his love through amber eyes.

"It was like…a pulse. Something I had felt a long time ago."

Ichigo's hitched a brow. "How long ago?"

Rukia sighed. "When I was just a child."

"Gods, that must have been _**centuries**_ ago, you old hag."

"Screw you, kid." Rukia tugged on the carrot-top's hair.

"You did that last night," he whispered raggedly in her ear. She felt her face grow red and her body temperature hitched a few degrees up. Ichigo trailed hot kisses down her neck.

"That was…completely uncalled for," she managed to say between uneven breaths. She circled a lean arm around his neck and leaned her back into his chest. He teasingly dragged his fingertips across her toned belly, making sure she knew what his intensions were.

"Yeah," he breathed, nibbling an earlobe. "But you love me for it."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

Heh heh, enjoy the short IchiRuki citrus I threw in at the end.


	6. Half Truths

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Mariko's head was spinning.

Byakuya had explained rather quickly—and bluntly—what their current situation was. The girl she had tried to help was a spirit, the monster that nearly killed her was called a Hollow—a corruption of a human soul—and he was a Shinigami.

_Shinigami_.

A Death God.

A Soul Reaper.

One who kept the balance of souls between here and the afterlife. It was all too much for the logically thinking doctor to take. She hadn't believed in a higher power in a long time. It was difficult to accept things like ghosts and souls existed, but the evidence was literally right in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she finally spoke. "Is this just some kind of game to you Death Gods?"

The high-ranking officer felt himself flinch at her accusation. "I do not play games."

"Then, what the fuck are you doing to me?" Mariko felt her fist start to shake. "First, you come into my emergency room with a kid that's not even yours, and then you accept a date from me? Are you some kind of spy? Is this some kind of joke?"

"I can assure you I meant no harm."

"Don't lie to me!" Her head began to spin faster and her breathing became shallow.

"Mariko," he said calmly and tilted her head up to look at him. "I meant you no harm." He needed her to know that he was serious. She needed to trust him.

She looked at him through shaken eyes. Her name rolled off his tongue with ease, foregoing formalities and skipping right to her first name. "Don't ever lie to me again," she whispered. Although she had calmed down, thick blood pulsed between her ears and she felt the pain return.

Byakuya watched in horror as Mariko quickly pushed herself away from him, clutching her abdomen with a white-knuckled hand. Her face was twisted with the sudden pain coursing through her body. He could sense her spirit wavering and smell the salt of sweat beginning to form on her pale forehead.

"Shit, not now," he heard her curse with a heavy breath. Byakuya was immediately by her side. This was all too familiar to him.

"Are you all right?" he questioned lowly. She coughed into her hand and wiped a drop of blood off the side of her mouth.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You require medical attention. Let me take you to a doctor."

"I **am** a goddamned doctor," she hissed. She rubbed her forehead and took in controlled breaths to ease the pain shooting through her lower torso. "I'll be fine, I just need to get home." She pulled herself upright, steadying her weight against a brick wall. She stumbled and expected to fall, but a strong arm came to her side. She looked up at the Shinigami holding her close.

Those eyes she had been hypnotized by were frightened. "I will assist you home," he stated. She was forced to swallow her pride and nodded. "Wait here," he lifted a finger to keep her still.

"What?"

He had only been gone a second, and then turned the corner dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing earlier that day. Mariko was confused but was in too much pain to question what had just happened.

"It's a gigai," he explained, supporting her weight against his suddenly solid form.

"Huh?"

"The body. It is a puppet that funnels my spiritual essence so I can move around freely in the real world," he explained matter-of-factly. Byakuya looked down at the petite woman as they walked.

"I didn't ask."

"You ordered that I do not lie," he retorted. "You should not need to ask." He broke his gaze and looked ahead.

"Heh, taking orders from a civilian now? What kind of captain are you?" Mariko had broken out into a light sweat from the ordeal but her wit stayed sharp.

"You are not just any civilian."

"Then what am I?"

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. She had meant for their banter to be playful but it brought up a serious tone. He looked away before answering.

"You ask that I tell you the truth. The truth is that I am not ready to answer that question." His gaze returned to look at her. She was frustrated at first, but his expression said that he was serious. The flame of anger quickly died. Now was not the time to press the subject.

The walk to her place was not far; she had chosen that apartment because it was close to work. Luckily the town was small enough that she could walk to most places. Byakuya stared at her apartment door number: 1206. The number six was repetitive, yet another indication that she subconsciously remembered her past life and his division number.

"Are you certain you are all right?" he asked when she opened her door. Mariko turned to face him, half in her doorway.

"I'll be fine," she reassured. Her words were not convincing the Shinigami. His hooded eyes remained filled with concern. She never had a soft spot for men, but this one seemed to melt the ice around her heart.

"Look," she sighed, "If you are that worried, I'll stop by Kurosaki Clinic in the morning before shift. I'll be damned if I go in for a check-up at my own hospital, I'd be the laughing stock of the whole ward."

"Kurosaki Clinic," Byakuya deadpanned. "Have you been there before?"

"Sure, Dr. Kurosaki is a colleague of mine," Mariko shrugged.

His face shifted back to its cold state. "I must go," he turned on a heel.

"But, wait, I—" her voice echoed down the hallway. It was useless. He was already gone.

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A red tip of a cigarette glowed against the dark sky. Smoke curled around the older man's fingers. He knew he shouldn't be smoking, but it was a satisfying habit in his opinion. It was certainly much safer than what he did in his previous life. In a moment, he felt a presence near him—something he hadn't felt in a very long time. The man smirked.

"What are you doing here, Captain Kuchiki?"

"Kurosaki Isshin, I have some questions that need answering." Byakuya stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

"Business as usual, Byakuya?"

"You have as little respect for my title as your reckless son," he sneered.

"Heh, and we both could kick your noble ass." Isshin grinned widely. It was obvious where Ichigo got his cockiness.

Kurosaki Isshin had once been the captain of the Eleventh Division, before the days of Zaraki Kenpachi. Shortly after Urahara and the others involved in the Vizard scandal were exiled, Isshin led his own investigation into the matter. A heated argument with Captain-Commander Yamamoto resulted in Isshin resigning and leaving Soul Society forever. Nearly 80 years later he met Masaki, and the rest is history.

"So what did you want, Byakuya? We both know you are not one for social visits." He inhaled the smoke and let it go slowly.

"Yoshitune Mariko. What do you know about her?"

Isshin sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I figured you'd find out about her sooner or later."

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. Everyone here seemed to know about his late wife's reincarnation except for him. Why had they all kept it a secret?

"I never met your wife Hisana. You were just a boy when I left Soul Society. Rukia told me about her, though. When I met Dr. Yoshitune, I felt something different about her. Only after talking to Kisuke did I put the pieces together."

"What did you feel was different? When I found her reiraku, it was the color of lilacs and would fade every so often."

"It's hard to explain. She has some spiritual pressure but it's not like anything I've been around before. When she first came into the clinic to gather some patients, I could swear it felt like you were walking through the door. But the more time she spent here, the more she felt like Rukia."

"I must ask why this was kept from me." Byakuya felt anger rising up in his voice. "I cannot express the depth of my disappointment in all of you."

Isshin took one last drag off his cigarette and held it, finally exhaling in a drawn out breath. He pressed the glowing tip into the balcony railing to put out the flame. "She's not Hisana anymore, Byakuya. Yoshitune Mariko has lived a hard life. It's changed who she once was."

"I refuse to believe that. She remembers. I have seen many signs that prove that."

"Byakuya," Isshin placed a hand on the Shinigami's shoulder. "Let her go."

Byakuya balled a fist at his side. He had heard that phrase more than once and it had never bothered him before. This time it made his insides tear. He knew it was true. He had kept searching her eyes when he spoke to Mariko, and her once vibrant flame had all but disappeared. She covered it well, but she had grown hard and cold in her new life. She wasn't Hisana anymore.

Still, he couldn't let her go. He **wouldn't** let her go. He had to know how she came back—why she came back. Why had her life turned to hard glass and what was wrong with her now. She was sick again, and the thought of losing her a second time made his stomach churn.

He made up his mind then to help her—this Mariko—whether she could remember him or not. She was once his wife, and he swore to protect her until death due them part.

The Sixth Division captain looked over to the former Shinigami. "If you were in my place and Masaki came back, what would you do?"

"I wouldn't give up."

"Then you know why I hold my position."

Isshin nodded. "Kuchiki's," he lowly chuckled, "Always the stubborn ones."

"You are one to talk, Isshin." The doctor laughed.

The two men stood outside, watching the moon change phases. It was a quiet night and they let the peace of the town wash over them. The stars were out in multitude on the clear sky.

"Mariko will be visiting Kurosaki Clinic tomorrow," Byakuya said, keeping his hooded grey eyes locked on the moon.

"I'll keep an eye on her for you and forward my consultation to Kisuke."

"I appreciate the consideration."

"What should I tell Rukia-chan? She has probably sensed you around here by now."

"Tell her nothing. She is my responsibility. She deserves to hear this from me."

Isshin lightly grinned. It was refreshing to see the Kuchiki noble open up, even in the slightest. He certainly did care for his sister-in-law.

Byakuya turned to leave, but stopped and spoke over his shoulder. "Begin planning for your son's funeral."

"And why is that?"

"That boy's and Rukia's soul threads have become intertwined." Byakuya's eyes glinted, "I am going to kill him."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

Yesss, ongoing joke about Byakuya killing Ichigo... hehehe

I hadn't understood why Jazzpha had made Isshin a former captain of the 11th Division,  
but after reading through some Gotei 13 history, I totally get it now.

Just to make things clear, it has not been exposed in the manga/anime which Division  
Isshin belonged to, how long ago he left, or why he left for sure.  
I made all of that up to fit into this story, but it would make sense to me if that really happened :-)


	7. Stubborn Help

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Mariko leaned over a wash sink in the employee locker room, cleared her throat and spat bright red blood into the stainless steel basin. Dark circles under her eyes tried to show themselves through the makeup she had put on. She hadn't slept well last night. Her dreams were filled with a combination of bad memories and the recurring garden scenario. She could swear she hear Byakuya's voice at one point.

She went to Kurosaki Clinic in the morning as promised, but Dr. Kurosaki hadn't told her anything different than what she had heard before. Complications due to Endometriosis: the same disease that she had been plagued with since she was a teenager.

It was a relatively common illness—affecting 5–10% of women—and typically non-fatal, but the side effects were excruciating. She was subjected to painful abdominal cramping, lesions forming on her womb, and worst of all infertility.

Mariko had married her husband because she thought she was pregnant, but that was not the case. It was the disease, only showing symptoms of pregnancy like morning sickness and a false-positive test result. After she had been admitted to the hospital for a ruptured cyst, her husband couldn't take it anymore. He became a withdrawn, adulterous bastard and she caught him cheating red-handed. She couldn't blame him entirely though. There was no love in their relationship in the first place.

She wiped light sweat off her forehead. Some days she could deal with the pain and some days she couldn't. Last night was the latter. She was embarrassed that Byakuya had seen her in that condition. Mariko did not like to appear weak.

She reached for a nearby paper towel to wipe her mouth. She leaned in closer to the mirror, placing her hand on the glass and looked into her reflection with shock.

Violet eyes stared back at her. White hair had been replaced with midnight black.

Mariko closed her eyes tightly to get the image out of her head. When she opened them again, her normal reflection was looking back at her: ice-blue orbs and snowy locks.

She shook her head to bring herself back to earth. Ever since she saw Byakuya in his true form, weird things like this had been happening. Her dreams of an Edo time period grew more vivid and the Emergency Room became filled with ghosts looking for a way out. She was going to kill the Shinigami for making her life more complicated.

"Mariko?" said a chipper voice. She turned to see Gina bouncing up to her. The nurse stopped short when she saw the look on her friend's face. "Are you okay?" she came beside Mariko with concern.

"I'm fine," Mariko dismissed. "Just a little tired."

"Well," Gina grinned, "maybe this will help brighten your mood. There's a certain gentleman here to see you."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, a **certain** gentleman that you were drooling over yesterday," she winked.

Mariko rolled her eyes. _Speak of the devil._ "Good, I need to talk to him."

"Did something happen?" Gina raised a brow, "Dish, girl."

"Something happened. But nothing you'd be interested in, trust me." Mariko cracked her knuckles like she was ready for a fight. She left a very confused Gina staring after her in the locker room.

When Mariko turned the corner she nearly ran into him. "Kuchiki Byakuya," her eyes narrowed, "You have some explaining to do." She grasped his arm and dragged him into an empty patient room.

He had to admit he was a bit surprised at how much strength the small woman had. Perhaps it ran in the family. "Is that so?" his baritone smoothly replied.

"Damn straight!" she hissed. "Ever since I met you—well, the real you—all this weird shit keeps happening to me and I can't do a thing to stop it! Do you know how many ghosts I have seen in the past few hours?"

"I would estimate about nineteen."

"Yeah, that's…that's right. Of course you would know; it's your **job**." She crossed her arms in a huff. "It's my job to take care of living. I can't do both and yet they expect me to do something about it."

"I fail to see your point." Byakuya remained calm as ever.

"Well if you had done your job, I wouldn't have to deal with them. Keep your business out of mine!" Mariko felt herself fuming at this point. Her pale face had to grown to a dark red by now.

"I will not go into the technicalities of my position, Dr. Yoshitune, but in short, that is not my only duty. Two other Shinigami are Karakura residents. If you want to blame anyone for your misfortune, I suggest you bring it up with them."

"If that's not your real duty here, then why did you take care of that girl yesterday?"

"I was the closest in proximity area."

Mariko growled in response. The man was infuriating with his sense of order and purpose. "You're impossible," she huffed, loudly sitting down in a nearby chair. She leaned her pounding head against the thin mattress. After her outburst something dawned on her. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Byakuya made his way to her side with large strides, his expensive leather shoes barely making a sound across the linoleum tile. He slightly winced at the sight of Mariko lying against the hospital bed. She was still in pain, and that worried him. "You went to Kurosaki Clinic this morning, correct?"

"Yeah," she closed her eyes with a sigh.

"And the results?"

"Same old, same old. Nothing I hadn't heard before." She puffed a breath up, moving her stray white bangs.

The Shinigami narrowed his stormy grey eyes. "You mean to tell me this was a pre-existing condition?" If Isshin knew about this, he was going to have an angry Senbonzakura to deal with.

"Yeah, it's a chronic illness. Something I've had for a long time, but it's not serious. Nothing I can't handle with two aspirin and a bad chick flick." She smirked, opening her glacier orbs. She glanced up at the tall man.

He was closer now, close enough to reach out and stroke her hair, but he didn't move. Part of her felt disappointed that he didn't even try. Byakuya remained torn between wanting to comfort he woman in front of him and maintain his distance. She may have been his wife once, but she was a stranger to him now.

The buzz of Mariko's pager going off interrupted the silent moment. She looked down at the message with a slight grimace. "I gotta go," she said standing up.

"Dr. Yoshitsune," Byakuya began. "I apologize for the mishap last night. Could I make it up to you tonight?"

Mariko felt the corner of her mouth curve up in a smile. "Dinner?" she suggested. "I cook a mean red curry."

"If by 'mean' you implied 'delicious' then I will accept."

"Gods, you're too proper, Shinigami. Catch up with times." She grinned and playfully patted the captain on his shoulder.

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Urahara combed through Yoshitsune Mariko's medical history Isshin had dropped off earlier. The disease mentioned throughout the documents was the same: Endometriosis. He was unfamiliar with the medical term but knew how the illness affected humans.

After much convincing and groveling, Captain Unohana, the Healer from the Fourth Division, had sent Hisana's medical documentation to him with a hell butterfly. He compared the notes with a grimace. In both cases the illness seemed to have the same side effects and symptoms, only in Soul Society the disease had killed her. It was no wonder why the Fourth Division's treatments were ineffective: it was a condition carried through after her death in the real world. They couldn't have saved Hisana. Her spirit was already weakened, leaving an opening for the tumors to find their way to her soul sleep.

Cracking his neck, Urahara took in a sip of hot tea to mull things over. If the disease had passed through her journey from the transient world to Soul Society, it was completely possible that it was embedded in her soul's memory. Isshin had explained that modern medicine had treatments for the condition, and Mariko was currently on medicated and surgical treatment. She had already undergone three corrective surgeries over the past five years. No matter what they seemed to do, the lesions kept coming back.

There had to be more to this disease than what presented itself on the surface. It explained how Mariko had become sick, but according to Isshin, the lesions should not have been growing back this rapidly. There was also the matter of her soul thread fluctuating.

"I see you are having some problems, Kisuke," a slimy voice came over speakers.

Urahara turned to face the screen he used to communicate with Soul Society. His former third seat eerily grinned through the monitor.

"If only Captain Kuchiki had let me continue with my research I might be of some assistance," Kurotsuchi Mayuri drummed his thin white fingers together.

"Oi, Mayrui," the shopkeeper casually waved. "I think we both know that you never intended for your guards to make it past me, anyway."

"Was my plan that transparent?" Mayrui faked a gasp. "Why else would I send my weakest minions on a pointless assignment?"

"Why else, indeed?" Urahara raised a brow. His green-grey eyes became devious with thought. "So tell me, my protégé, when did you implant Byakuya with the informational bacteria? By now I'm sure it's passed on to Hisana's reincarnate."

"You don't miss anything, do you Kisuke?" The mad-scientist cackled.

"I brought you out of the Maggot's Nest, Mayuri. I was your captain for nine years. I've always been one step ahead of you." Urahara said the last part with a wink.

Mayuri widened his skeletal grin. "I baited him until he snapped. When he strangled me, I passed the information-gathering bacteria onto him."

Urahara nodded with approval. His former student had proven just as dedicated as he was to his experiments.

"So I take it you've already given Captain Kuchiki the antibody?" Mayrui continued.

"Discreetly, of course. He never even knew he was a carrier."

"But not before he passed it onto the woman?" The mad-scientist smirked slyly. "Even I don't understand your methods sometimes, Kisuke. Information about her has been transmitting for the past several hours. I must say, it's…intriguing."

"I was counting on that. I can't figure this out on my own, Mayuri. I need your help."

"Why should I help you, exile?" Mayuri scoffed.

"Come now, you wouldn't want to upset Benihime would you?" Urahara held a fox's grin as he spoke.

Captain Kurotsuchi gulped. The one time he had insulted Urahara's zanpaktou he couldn't turn from his gelatinous form for a month. Benihime was finely in touch with her Shinigami and would incur her wrath when she deemed fit.

Although Urahara hadn't used his full powers in nearly 100 years, Mayuri could sense his former captain maintained the same ferocity and strength as he could back then. Even with his Bankai, he knew he didn't stand a chance in the face of Benihime. Poison did no good against a weapon of pure destruction. Besides, this was the just the sort of twisted man he knew Urahara was at manipulating a situation to his advantage. Mayuri laughed a shrill cackle that echoed through the metal room. "I always liked your style, Kisuke."

"Get to work, Mayuri," Urahara suddenly changed his tone. "I don't know how much time we have."

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**^__^ ****Please READ & REVIEW! ^__^**

I hope this clears a few things up as to why Mariko is sick and Mayuri's involvement.

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_**Additional A/N:**_

I have to comment about the disease I gave Mariko: Endometriosis. This is a personal subject for me, as I was diagnosed with the disease at age 17. I have already had one corrective surgery to remove the lesions and am on hormonal treatment to prevent more growth. _Endometriosis does **not** cause coughing up blood, unless your esophagus has been scarred by vomiting --- I added that part in to Mariko's symptoms to hint that there is more to her sickness than what is showing up in the human side._

Please support Endometriosis in your area!


	8. That Name

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Byakuya was pleased. Mariko had, in fact, been able to make a "mean" red curry, his favorite. Although it was not necessary for him to eat, the gigai Urahara lent him drained some of his spirit power—an unavoidable side effect since it was used to suppress and conceal reiatsu. The result would leave him famished, craving for substances like food and sleep. It was the first time he had ever felt like a human.

Another frustrating side effect of the gigai was actually feeling. Senses he had long since shut off or muted came back up to toy with his emotions and hormones. When he looked at Mariko, he couldn't help but remember what it was like to be with his wife: to feel her bare skin against his, sharing each other's warmth throughout the night.

He had to get out of here before he did something he couldn't take back. When she handing him a steaming cup of jasmine tea, he decided he would wait just a little bit longer.

"Thank you for the lovely meal," Byakuya complimented. He gingerly sipped at the floral liquid. Hisana had liked jasmine tea, too.

_Stop,_ his conscious voiced. _She is not the same._

It was a half-truth at any rate. Apart from her sharp tongue and untrusting nature, Mariko and Hisana's personalities were strikingly similar—even down to her preference in food and drink. Separating the two would be more difficult than Byakuya had initially thought.

"It was nothing," the white-haired woman replied. "I'm sure you're used to more extravagant meals than this." Over dinner Mariko had learned that Byakuya belonged to the Kuchiki Clan, one of the last four remaining noble houses in Sereitei, the Court of Pure Souls were Shinigami resided. That explained his speech patterns and general attitude. He could easily come off as arrogant at first meeting.

"Honestly, I prefer a minimal approach. Simple meals are best."

Mariko smiled. Somehow that didn't surprise her. The man came from a long military line of leaders, now the 28th head of the Kuchiki Clan, and following in his grandfather's footsteps as captain of the Sixth Division. In fact, Byakuya barely looked comfortable in civilian clothing. She was sure he would much rather stick to his uniform. That didn't stop him from being able to suck the air out of any room he was in.

He had come to her door in a more casual outfit than earlier in the day, donning a light blue dress shirt with French cuffs. He hadn't bothered with a tie or fully buttoning. The small opening left much to the imagination though, hinting at a well sculpted chest and upper body. His dark bangs hung down over his face, but the rest of his long hair was tucked back behind his ears. He could have showed up wearing a paper bag and still would have looked great.

He pulled a pocket watch out from his charcoal grey slacks, checking the time. "The hour is late," he said. "I am afraid I must get going."

Mariko felt her heart sink a little. It had been a long time since she let anyone into her life so easily and it was nice to have the company again. Instead of asking him to stay a bit longer, she nodded in understanding.

She walked him to her door and contemplated on her next move. "Thank you," she said suddenly.

Byakuya stopped in his tracks. "What for?"

"I know that I'm not…the most trustworthy person. And heaven knows that you've caused enough chaos in my life after just two days…but," Mariko shifted her gaze, trying to think of the right thing to say. "It has been a welcome change." She tip-toed up and left a small peck on his cheek.

She expected him to blush or walk off or have some kind of reaction to what she just did, but he just stood there. She looked at him quizzically. "Um, good night?"

Byakuya didn't know what to do. She had just kissed him. Even though it could mean nothing more than a platonic gesture, he felt his heart race.

_Just one,_ he told himself. _Just one to see if there is something here._ His hand reached out instinctively and knew exactly where to pull her in. She didn't even hitch a breath in surprise. She lifted her face up to his, their eyes growing heavy at the same time. He leaned down and captured her pillow lips.

_Just one._

He pressed his mouth against hers and she pushed right back.

_I just want one._

He could barely taste her, but it was enough.

_That is all I need._

He pulled away with hesitation. "Good night," he said, his voice scarcely above a whisper. She looked at him with wide glacier-blue eyes and lightly bit her lower lip. Without even thinking about it, Mariko grabbed the noble by his collar and pulled him down for more.

Byakuya didn't realize what was happening until his lips crashed onto hers. She pressed against him hard, parting his lips with hers to invite him in. He responded eagerly with the hidden passion she knew he had locked up. His mouth was hot and velvet of his tongue was soft but firm. His taste was like an addicting spice.

She pulled him back inside her apartment, never breaking their lip lock. She kicked the door shut with one swift movement. Before she knew it, her back was against a wall and Byakuya was pressed up right against her. He pulled back for a brief moment, pushing her hair away from her shoulder and going straight for her neck. He made a path of kisses from her chin to her collarbone, stopping often to suckle and make her squirm.

"Ooh, Byakuya," she made out through heavy breaths.

"Hisana," he responded in her hair.

Mariko froze and pushed him back to face level. "What did you just say?" She eyed him with a furious gaze.

_Bloody hell._ Byakuya couldn't think of a fast response.

She kept him away from her at arm's length. "What did you call me," she said firmly. "How do you know that name?"

"Um, I apologize. I—"

"No. Stop. How do you know **that name**?" She wriggled uncomfortably in front of him before her face twisted with anger and hurt. "Get off me," she started calmly, but it quickly changed into fright. "Stop it! Get off me!"

Byakuya stepped back from the terrified woman until he was several feet away from her. His eyes went wide at what she had become. The once confident doctor now cowered in a corner, grasping her hair by the roots, her eyes blank and shaking. "How do you know that name?" she said again.

He went to step forward, reaching a hand out, but she screamed at him, "Stop! Don't come near me!" Her ice-blue orbs were filling with tears. "How do you know that name?"

The Shinigami looked at the frightened woman with sincerity. He swore he wouldn't lie to her. He swallowed, "I deeply apologize. It was my late wife's."

Mariko slightly relaxed from her immediate fear, but the overall feeling stayed on her face. "Of all the stupid coincidences, why did it have to be **that name**," she said lowly. Shaking, she leaned back against the wall and let herself fall to the floor. She pulled her knees in close, huddling in a ball. She rocked, whispering inaudible phrases that only she could understand.

Byakuya was stunned. It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone react so strongly to the mentioning of a single name, and he had never had to deal with the aftermath. This was something different. Experience told him that something traumatic had happened to her, and that name was the key. It was like a trigger that held a bullet to her head, unlocking buried memories.

He felt helpless, unable to provide any sort of comfort to the woman in front of him. He couldn't tell her that she was his wife—that Hisana—now. The very mentioning of that name would throw her into this state. What had happened that made her so afraid of something simple like a name?

He sat down where he stood, careful not to make any sudden movements. He didn't speak. She would say something when she was ready.

Minutes, maybe more, passed before any words were spoken. Mariko held herself and looked at Byakuya once in a while, finding renewed composure each time. He was patient and wouldn't let her face this alone.

"That name," she swallowed, "It's what **he** used to call me."

Byakuya nodded. "Your ex-husband?" he said slowly.

"No." Mariko shook her head. "My foster father."

She shuddered. "It's what he would call me when…when he would…" She closed her eyes and a tear escaped down the side of her face. She scrunched her face up before continuing in a different tone of voice.

"'_Good girls take off their panties. Don't you want to be a good girl, Hisana?' _" Mariko suddenly threw the side of her fist into the wall. "Fucking bastard," she spat. Her fist left a dent and dry wall dust behind.

"Social Services let me drop my first name after he went to jail. I haven't been called that since." She rested her head against her knees and wiped the tears from her face.

"He tried to apologize, you know. Years later. But what he did was unforgivable. I told him I wished he was dead." Mariko narrowed her blue eyes that were now as hard as the thickest ice. "The next day he was. He killed himself."

She tightened her hands, white-knuckled veins beginning to pop out from the strain. "He took the easy way out! He was supposed to die by my hands, not his own!" She grimaced at the memory.

"He was rich and left me everything. I didn't want any of it. I gave the money away to charity and burned his house down." She closed her eyes, lightly shaking her head. "It was the closest I ever got to revenge."

Byakuya sat patiently barely able to contain the raw anger building under his skin. That's what had happened to her. That's what had changed her. It wasn't just the illness that carried itself through the transient worlds, it was living—the sheer pain of living every day with a burden like that on her shoulders. Add that to what happened with her ex-husband and every person she had ever trusted had stabbed her in the back. He blamed himself. He was so selfish in wanting her back that he hadn't thought of how she got there in the first place or what she had to go through.

"I do not know what I can say to make up for what he did to you," he swallowed. "I would have wanted to kill him, too." He moved to reach for her, but withdrew his hand, afraid of what her reaction might be. "I understand that nothing can repair the damage that was done. But I promise," he made sure he caught her eyes, "I will not allow for anything like that to happen to you."

Mariko sniffled and looked at him. "Why?" she demanded. "Why do you care? I barely even know you." The words she spoke may have been unbelieving, but the glaciers in her eyes began to melt.

The Shinigami couldn't bare the expression on her face. It was so full of hurt and betrayal. He wanted to hold her, protect her, breathe in her scent and never let go—but he couldn't. She was too fragile. Byakuya found himself moving toward her and she didn't flinch back. He placed a large hand on her tiny ones. "Knowing and being able to really see you are two different things. I can see who you are, Mariko. I see you."

With that, Mariko felt the ice around her solid heart shatter. No one had ever shown her kindness or strength the way he had. It felt like she was tumbling, falling face first…for him. She moved one her hands so she could brush his dark bangs away from those stormy grey eyes she found so endearing.

"Byakuya, will you stay? I don't want to be alone."

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I bet you weren't expecting that to happen. I warned you this was a tragedy.


	9. Saving Lives

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Rukia woke to the sound of her denreishinki shrieking. The cell phone like device blinked a light, indicating a message in the dark room. She groaned, turning on her bare stomach to reach for the phone. She rubbed her large eyes and flipped open the gadget.

"Aw, crap," she voiced aloud. Rukia immediately jumped out of the warm bed, a cold rush of air hitting her naked body. She quietly moved around the room, finding her Shinigami uniform thrown across the floor in different areas. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks at the memory of how her hakama sash ended up on the floor in the first place.

They had just gotten back from slaying hollows and heavy adrenaline was still pumping through their veins. Kon and Chappy resided in their moral bodies, resting late in the night. Ichigo decided to take advantage of the situation while they were in their spirit forms. He picked her up over his shoulder and tossed her on his bed with a solid clunk.

_What the hell, Ichigo!_ she yelled at him. He stood over her with a devious grin on his face. Then he pounced, thrusting his hands into her hair and taking her lips. His calloused fingers ran over her legs, hitching one up over his hip. She had practically ripped open his kosode with a growl, sweeping her small, graceful hands over his scars and well-sculpted chest. For the next hour they fought, bit and kissed their way through delicious love-making. Their reiatsu spiked and melded together, his black to her white. Making love as Shinigami had been an exhilarating experience.

Rukia smiled and quickly dressed. Even though that was completely worth the time they took out of their evening, she still had a job to do. Soul burials had to be performed and Ichigo couldn't carry out that part since he wasn't a true Soul Reaper.

"Oi, what's up?" Ichigo sleepily asked, sitting up in bed. His orange hair glowed in the moonlight.

"Just finishing up the job we started earlier," she murmured, slipping into her white tabi socks and woven reed sandals.

"I'll come with you," he said, slipping out from the sheets and picking his own clothing off the floor.

"It's just soul burials," she argued, "I'll be fine." She turned to leave out the window, but he grabbed her arm to hold her back. He glared at her half-dressed, a stunning torso of muscle shining in the night.

"I'm your partner," he said firmly. "I'm coming with you."

The petite warrior felt her eyes soften. "Fine," she huffed, "you stubborn ass."

"Dwarf bitch," he smirked. Rukia swiped her hand through the air to smack the side of his head, but he flash-stepped away from her to finish dressing.

Gods, help her, she did love the boy or she would have killed him by now. Even though she was coming up on a century-and-a-half birthday in a few months, he could make her feel as young as he was.

"Ready?" he piped up next to her. He had slipped into his kosode but left it untied, no doubt just to taunt her.

Rukia averted her eyes so she would focus on her task. "Let's go," she said, pushing herself out Ichigo's window. She used shunpo to move quickly through the town, leading her lover on a silent chase. Periodically she stopped, finding the wandering souls that needed passage to the afterlife.

Then she felt it.

The pulse.

It called out to her, begging her to come find it. Her eyes hazed over as she felt it fluctuate like waves passing through her. It felt familiar, like she had known it before, but it was different than that memory that rested deep within her mind. Something from long ago.

"Rukia?" Ichigo shook his partner by the shoulders to wake her up from the trance. She had stopped midair, sword barely grasped and her body had gone limp. "Oi, Rukia, what's wrong?" His voice began to panic. The last time she had gone into a daze like this, Aizen was behind it.

"I can feel it," she whispered out, not focusing on the Shinigami in front of her.

"Rukia?" Ichigo growled out, "Wake up!"

Her mouth moved, barely making a sound.

_It's her._

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Byakuya sat watching his wife's reincarnate slumber. He would have stayed even if she hadn't had the strength to ask. Mariko sighed in her sleep, burying her head further under the covers until her nose scarcely poked its round tip out from the bedspread.

She had asked him to stay with her until she fell asleep, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her alone the whole night. His mind kept going back over what she had confessed. He made a silent vow to find the bastard who dared to call himself her father, and personally throw his spirit into the gates of Hell.

For what had seemed like hours, Byakuya brewed jasmine tea, mixing the petals with lavender to calm her nerves. He would bring her the hot tea to her hands as she sat in a fetal position on her large cushioned couch. She wordlessly showed him how to operate the television and DVD player, putting in her favorite movie when she was feeling down, _My Fair Lady_.

It was a classic American film, and even without the Japanese subtitles displayed on the bottom of the screen, Byakuya understood the message. He found the movie intriguing, once again drawing similarities to her former life—a lower class citizen being brought up into high society. He remembered the protests from the elder members of the clan when he intended to name a servant of Kuchiki Manor his bride. Hisana had preformed beautifully though, flawlessly charming the nobles with more class than they ever could have expected from a street rat.

Byakuya would steal glances at the woman who was completely captivated by the musical. The faintest smile crossed her lips every so often. By the time the final credits were rolling, Mariko's lids had grown heavy with sleep. Silently, he scooped her up and carried her to bed, tucking her in as he had done so many times before.

'_This is nice,'_ she murmured, her voice thick from fatigue.

'_Yes, it is.'_ He pulled her covers over her small body and stroked her hair.

'_Byakuya?'_ She yawned. '_I've met you before, haven't I?'_ She could barely keep her eyes open. They fluttered closed as she spoke, hiding the ice-blue irises he had come to admire.

'_Yes,'_ was his only reply.

'_Mmm, long ago,'_ her chest began to rise and fall with slow, deep breaths. '_Before the first blossom fell…'_

Byakuya had felt a breath catch in his throat. He looked down at the white-haired woman with wide eyes, wanting a further explanation, but she had drifted off to sleep.

So there he sat, head full of thoughts with no answers. Was her memory returning? Did she know who he was, who **she** was? His mind was a tangled mess. It was easier to believe that her memories couldn't be restored and he was accepting Mariko for who she was now. Her sleep-driven revelation had driven his self-beliefs out the window.

He sighed, running a hand through his raven locks. What had he become? What had she done to him? He had duties and a squad to lead. The Kuchiki Clan looked to him to make responsible choices. He shouldn't be running around in the transient world, trying to find his love that had been lost for 50 years. He should be back home, signing papers and watching over his Division. With one look, the petite woman had managed to turn his world completely sideways, just as she had been able to do all those years ago.

These feelings wouldn't go away.

The Shinigami captain stood, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the slumbering woman. He quietly pulled open the sliding glass door that lead to the balcony, connecting to her bedroom. The night air was cool with a light breeze, bringing his feathery hair up away from his face. He let the wind wash over him, helping to clear his thoughts.

He barely heard the sound of the Shinigami approach, but there it was—the distinct sound of shunpo. He frowned. The gigai was a double-edged sword in that aspect. It concealed his reiatsu but also hindered his abilities to sense spiritual energy. He looked up, suddenly aware of who had flash-stepped into view.

"Rukia."

His sister moved towards the balcony where he was perched in a trance, seeming to be drawn to something. His eyes slanted to the orange-haired boy she had in tow. "What happened?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, Byakuya," Ichigo growled. "What the hell are you doing here? And why the fuck are you in a gigai?"

Byakuya sneered at the boy's crude language and disrespect of his name. "That is none of your concern. Rukia's well being, however, is mine. What happened?"

"I don't know," the Vizard scratched his head with a scowl. "She just went blank like this and I followed her here. Believe me, I tried to wake her out of it."

Rukia's violet eyes didn't shimmer in the moonlight like normal. Instead, she gracefully landed on the railing of the balcony and balanced without wavering. Byakuya studied his sibling, reaching up to her and calling her name to get her out of the daze. She ignored him and kept her eyes looking straight ahead—right into the bed where Mariko lay.

The young Shinigami floated down to the balcony floor, placing her hand against the glass. At that moment, her eyes shone like jewels and she was back. She looked around her briefly, but returned her attention to the woman asleep inside the apartment.

"Nii-sama," she said firmly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did not know how to," he admitted.

Ichigo was oblivious to the situation as usual. "Oi, what the fuck is going on? Rukia, you're not even shocked to see Byakuya in a gigai? On some strange woman's balcony?" His voice was rowdy to the Kuchiki's ears, undoubtedly loud enough to wake the dead.

"She's not just some strange woman, Ichigo," Rukia said with such patience that the carrot-top dropped his frustrated expression.

"She's my sister."

"Your sister? But I thought that she—"

"She did," Rukia interrupted, cutting him off before he could utter the word. She bit her lip and her amethyst eyes narrowed. "How," she breathed. "How did she come back?"

Byakuya sighed. "That is what I am here to find out." He came up behind her, placing a large hand on her shoulder. Rukia felt a tear slip down her cheek, and then spun to embrace the man she called her brother. He stiffened on instinct, but slowly relaxed as she clung to his shirt. He hesitantly returned her embrace, surprising both Shinigami.

Rukia hadn't known why she felt compelled to hug her brother—out of fear, or joy, or confusing, or comfort. She should have been furious that he kept this from her, but she knew he was not one to share difficult trials like this.

"Oi, Rukia, you're not even pissed that your brother didn't tell you?" Ichigo's mouth stood agape at Byakuya's sudden sensitivity.

She shook her head. "I'm sure he had his own reasons." She gulped and turned her head back to look inside the apartment. "Can I meet her?"

"I honestly do not know," Byakuya replied. "Her spirit is weak and she does not remember who we are or who she once was."

Rukia's heart fell at Byakuya's admission. She kept her eyes on the white-haired woman slumbering peacefully. "Are you sure?"

"On the surface, she does not remember anything about her past life. However, I believe her memories are trapped in her subconscious."

"How do you know?"

Rukia's hope grew when Byakuya relayed the information about her. Signs of recognition through her actions, personal choices and everyday life filled the young warrior with renewed optimism. She placed her hand on the glass again, as if she could touch her.

"My sister's a doctor," she smiled. "She saves lives.

"I save the dead."

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FINALLY it's back up!!! I'll get back to people's reviews tonight, I promise :-D


	10. Returning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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She was hearing voices again. They were muted, but growing louder than whispers, cutting through the wind of the garden she sat in. One she recognized as Byakuya, but there were two others—a young male and a female. The wind died down and the bright sky suddenly went dark.

Mariko opened her eyes, blinking in the dim light of her bedroom. She shifted, finding the seat next to her bed empty. Her eyes roamed the area and spotted Byakuya outside on her balcony.

He wasn't alone.

Two others, a young man with bright orange hair, and a petite girl with shiny onyx locks stood by her door. They were dressed similar to Byakuya when he was in his Shinigami form but without the white haori. A large cleaver shaped sword was wrapped on the boy's back and a thin katana was tucked into the girl's hakama sash. She couldn't see the girl's face but she seemed familiar.

The young man's voice grew louder, and Byakuya put one hand out towards the youth, chanting something. White restraints of light suddenly appeared, binding the boy's arms behind his back in an awkward position. He dropped to his knees with an angry red face. Byakuya approached him with a death stare. He didn't raise his voice but whatever he was saying was upsetting the girl. She rushed to the aid of the carrot-top and pleaded to Byakuya.

Mariko rose from her bedding to see what the commotion was about.

"You will regret your actions, Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya calmly spoke to the teenager.

"I'd never regret it, Byakuya, and neither does she!" Ichigo nodded his head in the girl's direction. The girl slumped forward a little, her back still facing towards Mariko.

"Do you defy me, boy?" the strong Shinigami captain questioned.

"I love her," the teen said firmly. "You can't stop that."

"I did not give permission, therefore you are my enemy."

"Byakuya!" Mariko's voice cut in. "What the hell is going on?"

Three Shinigami turned to face her, all with wide eyes. Byakuya kept his stronghold on Ichigo, who stared at her with amber orbs. The girl looked at her with shock, the color draining from her already pale face. A lone dark bang hung between her shaking violet eyes. Mariko felt a breath catch in her throat and her mouth went dry.

"It's you," she managed to squeak out. She hesitantly strode towards the girl. Her name was on the tip of her tongue.

"I know you," she said lowly, "How do I know you?" She came closer, a hand reaching out towards the young Shinigami. She was only a few inches shorter than she was and had just as small as a frame.

Mariko stopped nearly toe to toe with the girl. She studied her face, white brows furrowing deep in thought. She swallowed, and brought a nervous hand up to the girl's face, lightly stroking her stray bang. Her eyes suddenly glazed over at the motion.

Her lips moved in whisper, "Rukia."

With that, Mariko's glacier blues rolled to the back of her head and she crumbled against the girl.

"Onee-san?" Rukia cried out. "Onee-san!" She nearly collapsed under the weight shift, but held her ground, falling to her knees. She turned Mariko over, cradling her body against her legs for support. Rukia tried shaking her at first but then held her close in a tight hug, crying out for her sister the entire time.

Byakuya panicked, releasing the kidou that had bound Ichigo's arms. He rushed to Rukia's side, quickly assessing Mariko's condition. He brought two fingers under her jawbone to check for a pulse. The beat was rapid against his fingertips.

"She needs help. I am taking her to Urahara's place."

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Urahara slid the door shut, leaving Hisana's reincarnate to rest on her own. He had given her a potion to help with the sudden fits she would lash out in. Tessai stayed by her side, aiding her recovery with kidou.

"What happened?" Rukia came up to him immediately, her eyes puffy from tears. "Will she be okay?"

The shopkeeper sighed. "She's recovering her memories, basically reliving her past-life in fast-forward. She had already been thrown into a weaker state, so it's no telling how long she'll be unconscious."

Rukia's lower lip quivered and she glanced over at the orange-haired Shinigami for comfort. He motioned her to come to his side. She sat down next him and leaned in, a strong arm held her close. Ichigo looked up at Byakuya, not for permission to comfort his love but instead a silent understanding for what he was going through. After the Winter War, it took weeks for Rukia her to recover from her injuries. He could do nothing but wait.

Byakuya kept still as a rock with his arms folded across his chest. He had shifted out of the gigai and was back in Shinigami form. He focused his grey eyes, now cold and distant, on no where in particular. His brow was furrowed with thought, but it was not apparent what he was on his mind.

He was jealous.

He couldn't believe it. He was jealous of his own sister-in-law. One look from Rukia and it triggered Mariko's memories to surface. Rukia knew exactly who and where her sister was without even following a reiraku—something he had to resort to. Why wasn't he the one who brought back her memories? His track record showed he only brought up her worst thoughts buried for years. He had spent days with her and she had seen him in his Shinigami form, but still…nothing. He couldn't help her at all. He just made things more complicated for everyone, as he had always done when it came to her.

Senbonzakura hummed at his side, whispering thoughts only he could hear.

'_Stop,'_ he responded to the zanpaktou. '_I do not deserve her. Not anymore.'_

The soothing voice of the princess Senbonzakura sighed. '_Why do you insist on punishing yourself, Byakuya-sama?'_

'_I let her down, as I have done so many times before.'_

'_You are such the fool,'_ she hissed then quieted her voice before he could retort.

Byakuya inwardly agreed. He **was** a fool. He had always been a fool…for her.

After the day the new servant had stumbled into his practice room and witnessed his final Bankai step, he found himself looking forward to their short interactions. No one dared to approach him or even speak to him—especially the way she talked to him—and it was refreshing. After a few months their casual talk had grown into something more. In that female servant, Hisana, he had made a close friend.

Soon after, he took a daring step by stealing a kiss from the young woman he had come to admire. He knew it was risky, but he couldn't imagine his world without her by his side.

'_Hisana,'_ her name flowed out so easily. _'Will you marry me?'_

A bright red flush rose to her creamy cheeks. _'Why would you want to do a thing like that?'_

'_I love you.'_ His answer was simple and to the point, as he had always been.

Her sad, violet eyes looked at him with a light flicker of hope, but then they dulled and grew withdrawn. _'I can't love you.'_

'_Why not?'_

'_My heart belongs to my sister,'_ she explained with a small hand clasped against her chest. _'I can't marry you when my heart is with another.'_

'_Do you mean to tell me you feel nothing for me?'_ Instead of growing frustrated, Byakuya felt compassion rising in his voice.

'_I…I do feel something for you, Byakuya-sama.'_ Her eyes faltered as is she felt she had betrayed her kin.

'_Then that's enough.'_ He pulled her in for a deep kiss.

They were happy at that time. She held her duties as his wife and the Lady of the house with grace and confidence. But Hisana was right—she had never truly loved him. Not a day went by that she didn't venture outside Sereitei's walls to look for Rukia. Even on her deathbed, she was thinking of her baby sister that she could never find.

A small tug on Byakuya's captain's haori pulled him out of his memories. He looked down to find Ururu, her sad eyes more distraught than usual. "Are you all right, Kuchiki-sama?" her small voice came out thick, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I," he paused, trying to piece together his complicated struggle into words. "I am concerned," he finally concluded.

"Me too," she said. Her face looked like it was going to break at any moment. "I like Dr. Mariko."

Byakuya let a short breath out, bringing his arm around the child's shoulders. "So do I."

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The news was not good. That's all Urahara could see written on Mayuri's face through the monitor screen. What the Twelfth Division captain had told him was worse than simply "not good."

"How is the subject doing now?" Mayuri showed a small hint of compassion when he spoke to his former captain.

"She's recovering her memories," Urahara said lowly. He could hardly concentrate on what was going on now, too worried about what was to come.

"That's a painful process," the mad-scientist replied with a twinkle in his twisted yellow eyes.

"It won't be as painful as what will happen if we can't find a solution to her real problem." The shopkeeper had grown serious about the matter at hand. He had no time for games anymore. "How could this have happened?"

"Unfortunately there are too many variables considering the subject's history. It could have easily slipped in when she was a child. Traumatic experiences can lead to the change. It just presented itself as a human disease in this case."

"There must be a solution," Urahara rubbed his tired eyes. "I can't let this happen. She deserves better."

"There are only two that I can think of," Mayuri twitted his fingers together. His skeleton grin grew wider as he explained. "One would send any Shingami to the same fate as Captain Kuchiki's street rat sister, and the other," he paused, "Well, let's just say that the other would end with death, too."

"Find another solution," Urahara said quietly.

"Didn't you hear me, Kisuke? There **is** no other solution."

"**Find another way**." The shopkeeper's tone grew frighteningly serious and his usual green-grey eyes now shone orange of his reiatsu seeping out. Back in the safety of his lab, Mayuri could feel Benihime's rage trying to rip through the communication portal to strangle him. He felt a slight grip around his jugular vein, barely the tip of the Blood Goddess's power.

"Yes, sir," Mayuri managed to squeak out. Urahara's zanpaktou released her grip and came back to her master. He coughed and rubbed the side of his neck. "Just one more thing," he lifted a hand to halt the end of transmission. "What do I do about Captain Kuchiki? He will want some answers."

"Tell him nothing. This is her decision to make, not his."

Mayuir nodded, "Understood." The screen flickered and went black, severing the connection.

No sooner had their conversation ended did Yoruichi slide open the door to his study. Her golden eyes were crossed between shaken and stunned.

"She's awake. And she wants to talk to you first."

Urahara closed his eyes with a long sigh. What had started as a bad day had just gotten worse.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
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2 Updates in a row because of the site being down. Next chapter will be up Friday.


	11. Leave

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Dawn broke in a fury of pink and orange across the horizon. Byakuya had moved to the roof to watch the sunrise, a futile attempt to escape his haunting thoughts. Would she be glad to see him? Would she be angry instead? A hundred different possibilities crossed his mind.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, Byakuya-boo?"

Byakuya turned to see Yoruichi sitting on the roof with him. Even after a hundred years, the Flash Goddess lived up to her name. He hadn't detected her movement in the slightest. She lifted her mocha face up to him, the warm sunlight making her skin shine bronze. Her dark purple hair flowed lightly in the crisp morning's breeze. Golden cat eyes smiled at him, but they were softer than usual.

"It is nice," Byakuya agreed, facing back to the pink clouds. "And I believe I ordered you to refrain from calling me that."

"Heh," Yoruichi chuckled, "Some things never change." Her words had a double meaning, something she had picked up from years of being with Urahara.

"Some things do," the noble replied. If she hadn't known any better, Yoruichi was sure she heard sadness in his tone. She returned her attention to the rising sun.

A throat clearing made the two Shinigami aware of another presence. Byakuya looked down the roof to see Tessai with a serious face. "Captain Kuchiki-sama," his deep bass voice called out, "Yoshitsune-san wishes to speak to you now."

Yoruichi gulped as Byakuya could not. At this point, no one could predict what the woman who was once Hisana had to say. Byakuya jumped off the roof, floating to the ground as light as a feather. He motioned for Tessai to lead the way.

The Shihouin princess sent a silent prayer his way. _Good luck, little Byakuya._

The shop was as quiet as death when Tessai walked in with Byakuya. The large, mustached man also motioned to Rukia, who was still being held by Ichigo. "She wants to talk to you too, Rukia-san." The petite girl darted her eyes between Byakuya and Ichigo. Her expression was a mixture of hope and fear. Ichigo silently conversed with her, passing some of his strength on to his love. With that, Rukia stood more confident and rose to meet her brother.

Tessai led the way to a room towards the back of the shop. It was much quieter in this area and sealed with kidou. Tessai chanted a Demon Arts incantation that the two Shinigami were not familiar with. The barrier dropped and they were allowed inside.

Mariko sat quietly, dressed in a modest blue kimono robe Yoruichi had given her. Her white hair was lit yellow by a lantern in the room. Her glacier blue eyes remained as hard and cold as ice. She wore no smile, only a look of resolve. "Please sit," she said, gesturing to an area in front of her.

"I know that you have a ton of questions for me, but I'm asking that you don't say anything for now."

Rukia looked at Byakuya with worried eyes. He nodded to comply.

"First, Rukia, my baby sister," Mariko's hard eyes softened as she spoke her name, "I am so very sorry for leaving you in Rukongai. Nothing I can say can make up for that pain that I have caused you.

"Byakuya-sama," he slightly winced when his title was used. He had grown to like being called simply 'Byakuya' by her.

"Thank you for making me your wife," she continued. "It was truly the happiest time in my life. You fulfilled your promise by finding Rukia after I had passed. She is alive and well, and for that I can't find the words to tell you how grateful I am."

Mariko adjusted her posture to keep herself straight. She would need to be strong now. "If you two have ever loved me, I have a favor to ask."

Byakuya and Rukia glanced at each other before nodding.

"I never want to see either of you again."

The words came out of Mariko's mouth as if she had said them so many times before.

Rukia felt a sob catch in her throat. "What do you mean?" Her amethyst orbs were welling up with tears. Byakuya couldn't find a response and kept his eyes locked on the floor. An ice storm of fury was brewing underneath the grey tones.

"I mean what I say," Mariko deadpanned. She picked herself off the floor and moved past them to open the door. "I don't want to see you ever again." She didn't look back as she left, her head held upright.

She walked past the silent Shinigami and others in the shop. The quiet of the room fell heavy onto her shoulders. She stayed on her course and made her way out the front door. A crash came from behind her, followed by swiftly pounding feet.

"Onee-san!" Rukia cried out, hand clutched to her heart. Salty tears had streamed down her china-doll face, glinting in the morning's rays.

"Onee-san!" she cried again, "Why? Why are you doing this? Don't you care about me? About Nii-sama?" She ran up to Mariko, spinning her around to face her. The white-haired woman's face remained emotionless and her eyes hard as glass.

"No," Mariko answered. She swatted Rukia's hands off of her. "I feel nothing." She turned away, continuing on her walk home.

Rukia crumbled to the ground, falling on her knees. Her sobs echoed in Mariko's ears.

_Keep going,_ she had to tell herself. _It's for the best._

Ichigo came out from the shop, quick to Rukia's side. She grabbed for him, her eyes blinded by tears and dirt from the ground. He held her close and rocked her, stroking her back. She sobbed into his chest, barely muffling the sounds of her broken heart. Byakuya had stepped out onto the porch, watching his former wife walk away from her family. He kept his posture stiff and expressionless. Yoruichi came up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shoved her hand off of him with a solid motion.

"Urahara," he spoke coldly, "Open a gate to Soul Society. I'm going back."

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Mariko got to her apartment after the longest walk home she had ever had. She opened the door, the click of brass echoing in the empty room. For a moment she stood in the doorway, just surveying the remains of the last time she had felt happy. It was in here, with him—her former husband. She had been so daft to not see it before. Of course that's why he was spending time with her, why there had been an attraction between them.

She closed the door behind her with a solid clunk. She had to push all of that out. Silently, she washed and dried the dishes from her dinner date with Byakuya. Her small herb garden in the kitchen window had been plucked of lavender from the night before. She hadn't really like lavender in her past life, but now she did. It was soothing instead of a harsh reminder her of the potions Unohana would make her drink.

When she was the Lady Kuchiki.

When she was Hisana.

Funny how she kept her name through two lifetimes. She hadn't really liked the name Mariko—it was too generic. She had been given that name when she was left at an orphanage less than a year old. At age 3 she decided that she wanted to be called 'Hisana.' She had always thought that was a beautiful name. It reminded her of a garden filled with cherry blossoms and Chinese bellflowers. That was her sacred place, the dream she had since she was just a child. Ironic how the name that once soothed her turned into poison after she had been adopted.

Mariko finished cleaning the dishes, retreating to the bathroom to take a shower. She carefully stripped of her clothing: the kimono Yoruichi had lent her and the pajamas she had worn the night before. She paused with her back turned to the mirror, glancing over her shoulder at her back tattoo. She took in a breath, the memory of the one and only time she had seen Byakuya's Shuukei Hakuteiken fresh on her mind.

She had the tattoo for years, back when she was diagnosed with the disease. Her husband then was no help for strength, and this formation came to her in a dream. She spent time with an artist to render her vision perfectly. The finished piece was beautiful and gave her renewed hope and strength. It took months for the tattoo artist to paint it on her skin, but every prick of the needle helped her feel more like herself than she had in a long time.

It all made sense now: her name, her dreams, and her vision of the Shuukei Hakuteiken—even her immediate attraction to Byakuya. And now she would have to let it go.

Turning on the shower to full hot, Mariko stepped into the steam. The scaling water hit her skin in solid drops, making the pale color turn pink from the heat. She couldn't feel any of it. Instead something bubbled up inside and she braced herself against the cold tile.

A harsh sob escaped her lips. All the tears she had been holding back flowed freely. She leaned her head against a ceramic wall, her wet matted hair sticking to the tile. She slowly dropped to the floor and held herself. Her tears mixed with the pounding water. She didn't think she would ever stop crying.

She had hurt the ones she loved, but there was no other choice.

During her memory relapse, a spirit came to her and explained why she was brought back. She cursed at the woman, who looked at her with compassionate silver eyes and flowing dark plum hair. It was cruel to do this to her and the ones she cared about. To be brought back, only to be torn away again. She asked the spirit why—why had she done something so spiteful. The Goddess smiled and said in a voice as calm as the sea, _'Because everyone deserves a second chance at love.'_

Mariko wept. Gods help her, she **did** love him this time around…the way he deserved to be loved by her with a full heart. But she couldn't put him through that again, so she pushed him away. She wanted them to believe that she didn't care so they would leave without having to deal with the trouble she caused. She wanted so badly to hug and laugh with the woman her sister had become, but it was not possible.

More than anything she wanted to feel Byakuya with her the way things used to be. She wanted to be his. But she couldn't.

Not anymore.

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Byakuya hadn't said a word since Mariko had left. He didn't offer the comfort he had so willingly given to Rukia earlier. He stayed in his cold shell, locking everyone out. His eyes weren't focused on anything, just keeping straight ahead.

Ichigo watched Byakuya descend into the lower room with Urahara. He snarled at the noble. How could anyone be such an idiot? With Rukia by the hand, he followed the two men downstairs.

"Byakuya," he shouted. "Oi, Byakuya, I'm talking to you!" He reached out and spun the captain towards him. Concrete grey eyes met amber flames.

Ichigo tightened his grip on Byakuya's haori, rumpling the silk scarf. Rukia retreated back, watching the two with wide eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Unhand me, boy," Byakuya hissed. He shoved Ichigo off and continued towards the gate.

"I don't think so," Ichigo glared, flash-stepping into Byakuya's path. "Why are you leaving?"

"Because it was ordered."

"That's fucking stupid," the carrot-top spat.

"Do you expect me to disrespect my wife's wishes?"

"Didn't stop you before."

Suddenly a cut appeared on Ichigo's cheek and his eyes went wide.

"That was out of line," Byakuya sneered, a sealed Senbonzakura unsheathed and its tip pressed again Ichigo's throat. Instead of retreating, Ichigo began to chuckle.

"That's what I'm looking for, Byakuya."

The noble narrowed his eyes, a harsh storm replacing the still cold. The Vizard grinned widely at his rival.

"I'm not letting you go back, _Captain_." The last word dripped with sarcasm. Ichigo pulled Zangetsu off his back, its wrappings immediately loosening and falling to the ground. He pushed himself back a few yards, bringing his cleaver-shaped zanpaktou up to point at the man in front of him.

"If you want to leave, you're gonna to have to go through me first." Ichigo kept a cocky smile plastered on his face. His brown eyes sparkled with the anticipation of battle.

"That can be arranged." Byakuya brought his zanpaktou parallel to his body.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura."

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I hope I didn't make many people cry. Remember, this is a tragedy, people!  
Look forward to Byakuya and Ichigo's fight next chapter ^_^


	12. Battle of Pride

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Ichigo blocked Senbonzakura's released form without resorting to his Bankai as he had in their first battle. Tiny scratches cut across his Shinigami uniform, but only a few had broken skin. Byakuya silently observed Ichigo as he tested him with the shimmering pink blades. The boy had grown exponentially faster and more strategic since the Winter War. After all, Ichigo had fought against higher ranked Arrancar than he had in Hueco Mundo. It had taken weeks for his sliced tendons to completely heal from his own battle with the Seventh Espada, Leroux Zommari. Ichigo managed to hold his own against the Fourth Espada and narrowly escaped death from Aizen's cunning illusions.

"Getsuga Tenshou!" Ichigo shouted, slicing Zangetsu through the air and emitting a black arc of light towards him. Senbonzakura rushed to block the attack against her master. The tiny blades of reflected pink just managed to push back the blast, but not completely. Byakuya swiftly tilted to the side to evade the rest of the burning black. He barely escaped the strike, and a slice cut across his cheek mimicking the cut he gave the boy in the beginning.

The orange-haired Shinigami smirked. He had gotten **much** faster since their first battle. "I don't want to kill you, Byakuya, just get you to stay."

"Pity, because that is my aim," Byakuya gracefully moved his hands in an elaborate pattern, and Senbonzakura replied. He could control the miniscule blades with his mind, but he was much faster with his hands. The sharp petals danced through the air, chasing down his opponent. They stepped up their pace, and so did their prey.

Suddenly Ichigo was right in front of him, his amber eyes blazing. "You're a fool," he hissed. "I'm going to end this quickly." He flash-stepped away from Byakuya and yelled out, "Ban…KAI!"

A sonic pulse of reiatsu ran towards Byakuya. It pushed against his chest and made it difficult to breathe. He held his ground, digging his woven reed sandals into the artificial dirt of Urahara's training room. His hooded eyes squinted to see the boy transform into his Bankai form, the tattered red and black cloak of Zangetsu draped around his shoulders. His large sword was replaced with a long black katana with a geometric guard and hilt.

"If that is your wish," Byakuya said flatly, bringing Senbonzakura in front of him, tip-side down.

"Bankai. Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."

His zanpaktou glowed white before dissipating into the ground. Two rows of giant swords sprung up around him, creating a tunnel effect. Their form altered, shattering into numerous tiny blades. His speed and strength for control increased tenfold. The massive collection of razor petals shot towards Ichigo with an incredible velocity, surrounding the Shinigami. They separated into waves and sprung up quickly before crashing down on the boy.

Ichigo shoved his blade into the ground and cried out, "Kuroi Getsuga!" A black orb promptly formed, completely encasing his body. It pulsed once and burst through the oncoming attack from Senbonzakura. The pink blades were thrust back, scattering and falling on all sides. Ichigo remained unharmed in the center, but his breathing had gotten heavier. "Don't you want to know why she left?" he raggedly breathed out.

"Irrelevant," Byakuya coolly answered. His eyes shifted as Senbonzakura reformed for a second attack. "It would be wise if you spent less time talking and more time fighting."

Before it could be launched, Ichigo flash-stepped into view directly in front of his face. His brows were cross and his eyes were serious. "You need to know."

"No," the noble met the boy's gaze, "I don't." The sound of shunpo hit the air, and he raised his hand up to the mass of blades.

"Senkei."

The pink swarm rushed around them, rejoining as several vibrant swords. They created a cage, sealing Ichigo in for close range combat. He reached out a gloved hand and grabbed one of the glowing pink katana.

"I'm coming."

"You didn't have to warn me, I felt this a mile away." Ichigo flashed a cocky grin to the captain.

Their concentrated spiritual power in their swords clashed, sending a ringing shockwave in its wake. Rukia and the others watched from far away, feeling the bursts of their reiatsu. They could do nothing but watch the two ferocious powers face off in a battle of pride.

Ichigo pushed his sword against Byakuya, gaining an upper hand. "Why don't you want to know why she left?"

"It is none of my concern," Byakuya's eyes narrowed. He moved to get out from the pressure of Ichigo's advances. One sword dissolved in his hands and he quickly replaced it with another.

"Of course it is!" the boy yelled at him. "You've gotta be blind to not see what she was going through." He sliced through the air, catching a fold in Byakuya's haori. It cut through cleanly, leaving a gaping hole in the white fabric.

"What do you mean," Byakuya sneered. He reached for another sword immediately. Each one seemed to be failing after a single blow from the boy. Was he that strong now or what is it something else?

'_I want you to hear what he has to say,'_ Senbonzakura voiced aloud.

'_Why would it make a difference?'_ He cursed at his zanpaktou for ignoring his commands.

'_Because I, too, can see what you cannot.' _The Cherry Blossom Princess grew serious. _'If you do not stop this pointless battle, then I will.'_

"She's fading," Ichigo said with a grunt, keeping an even pressure on Byakuya's sword. "I can't believe you didn't see it." He pushed back to create space between the two. His katana stayed by his side, neither defending nor attacking in the cage.

"Your wife is dying."

"Liar!" Byakuya bellowed. His stormy grey eyes flashed lightening as he charged. Ichigo immediately blocked and used shunpo to break them apart again.

"That's why she left," the youth retorted. "She didn't want you around to watch her die for a second time."

"Unfathomable," the captain hissed, reeling back to charge his enemy.

"Heh," Ichigo smirked, "Kuchiki women are all stubborn asses, aren't they?" He blocked Byakuya's advances with ease. The noble was getting sloppy when fueled by emotion. The cage around them began to dissipate. His zanpaktou had lost the will to fight.

"Rukia didn't want me to save her, and now Mariko—Hisana, whoever she is—doesn't want you to save her."

Byakuya moved to lunge at the boy, but Senbonzakura stopped responding. She broke the Bankai on her own and returned to her sealed form. He sent a string of obscenities towards the sword that stood stuck in the ground. She snarled at him and told him to listen well. Her thoughts were cut off by the sense of black steel pressed against Byakuya's throat.

"I win again," Ichigo grinned deviously. He sealed Tensa Zangetsu and returned to his usual Shinigami outfit with his zanpaktou in its shikai form.

"You and I are more alike than what you think, Byakuya." The carrot-top looked over his shoulder as he placed Zangetsu on his back, automatically wrapping itself.

"In the end, we'll both fight for the woman we love." From across the expansive room, Rukia heard his words. She smiled.

_The woman we love,_ Byakuya repeated to himself. This battle had never been about his distaste for Ichigo or his desire to return to Soul Society. It was about her. It was a battle he had to fight against himself, whether to stay and fight for her or leave as she had asked. Senbonzakura knew him too well it seemed, because she didn't want to fight it anymore. Her retreat sent a clear message to him: they were staying.

The noble glanced back to his sister, who was making her way to them now that the battle was over. Her face was lit up. He didn't want to admit it aloud, but Rukia glowed brilliantly when she was around the brat. Kurosaki grinned at the sight of the petite Shinigami running to greet them. He had that same warm glow.

"Did you mean what you said?" Byakuya suddenly asked.

"What?" Ichigo looked over at the captain with a slightly confused expression.

"Rukia. Do you truly love her?" His eyes stayed fixed on the young woman he thought of as family.

The carrot-top stood strong. No boyish looks of blush or embarrassment crossed his face. "Yes."

He was confident and his words were true. He meant it. Byakuya paused before lightly nodding. "Good."

Ichigo's brows furrowed at first, but then relaxed into a crooked smile.

"However, that does not mean affairs between you and I have been settled." His eyes slanted in the boy's direction. "You have yet to ask for my permission to enter into a relationship my sister."

Ichigo gulped. Kuchiki Byakuya was one intimating man, even if he was technically on the same Shinigami level as him. He was protective of those he was close to, especially Rukia. "So, uh," he cleared his throat, "Can I date Rukia?"

"No."

"What?! But you just said—"

"I requested that you ask permission. I did not say that I approved." Byakuya moved to greet Rukia as she came bounding up to them.

"What's wrong with him?" she thumbed to Ichigo, who just stood there with his mouth agape.

"I haven't the slightest," Byakuya coolly responded. He adjusted his gloves that had shifted during the short battle.

"So you're staying? You're going to fight for her?" Rukia's violet eyes gleamed with renewed hope. The truth about why her sister had pushed them away made sense. She of all people knew how stubborn her kin could be when it came to dealing with problems. The situation was heartbreaking, but it did give them a second chance to get through to her. It gave her a real opportunity to get to know the sibling she lost so long ago.

"I will be staying for the time being." Byakuya paused and calmly continued. "I must ask something of you, though."

She titled her head and nodded, "Anything, Nii-sama."

"You ought to go to her first."

The young woman's eyes went wide with disbelief. "But, Nii-sama, I don't know anything about her. You were married to her and knew her for years. You should be the one to see her and change her mind."

Byakuya shook his head sadly. "No, Rukia. It should be you. It was you who triggered her memories, who found her blindly. You sensed her before I could. You have a connection with her that I could only hope to achieve."

Rukia bit her lip and averted her eyes from looking into sorrowful grey pools. Byakuya reached down and lightly tipped her china doll face up to look at him. "It should be you," he repeated.

Rukia blinked. An act of consideration like this was rare coming from him. Usually he would hold an empathetic response in any situation. His typical confidence and demeanor seemed to be breaking down in this moment. She realized that his love for Hisana still ran deep and he would do anything to make her happy, including postpone his own feelings to reunite the sisters.

"I understand." She felt a small smile tug at her lips. "Thank you," she added in a whisper.

He nodded and flash-stepped away. Urahara nearly jumped when Byakuya appeared right in front of him. "Heh, you'd think I'd be used to that by now after living with Yoruichi," he adjusted his striped green bucket hat.

"You have some explaining to do," Byakuya immediately got to down to business. His face remained stern but his eyes were building with frustration and worry.

"I can't," Urahara shrugged.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I made a promise to Yoshitsune," the shopkeeper explained. "I always keep my promises."

Byakuya frowned. Urahara was known for being trusted with secrets, but this was far too serious of a situation to play games. He would have to get to the source, even if she didn't want him to know.

Perhaps the Kurosaki brat was right about Kuchiki women and their stubbornness.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

I fail at writing extended battle scenes.  
We'll get back to Mariko's side of the story next chapter.


	13. Stubborn Change

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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"You're scaring patients."

"What are you talking about," Mariko flatly replied. She sipped on a cup of cappuccino to clear her thoughts. She didn't want to think about jasmine tea and the memories it brought back.

Ishida Ryuuken strolled towards his new hire, sitting across from her in the cafeteria. He propped his elbows up on the table with his long fingers lightly resting against each other. It was annoyingly diplomatic.

"I mean, you're scaring patients away with that look on your face." He raised a brow and peeked over his near-invisible glasses frames.

"Why do you care? As long as it brings in money nothing matters to you," she met his gaze with cold eyes.

"It's **not** bringing in money, that's my point." Ryuuken straightened his charcoal grey suit jacket and adjusted the cuff links on his light blue shirt. "You look terrible. Go home."

"I won't go home," she said into the cup. The tan liquid swirled as she rotated the styrofoam.

_I don't know where home is anymore._

"Then stay in the cafeteria. I don't want you back in the ER." Ryuuken moved to leave Mariko where she sat.

"I know what you are," she said lowly. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head to her.

"What do you mean?"

"You're a Quincy." Mariko fingered the embossed lettering on the disposable cup. Ryuuken stiffened but sat back down.

"How do you know that?" His white brows furrowed.

"I remembered," she sighed. "My memories are back—all of them." She looked up to gauge his reaction. "I remember who I am. Well, who I was before."

Ryuuken laced his fingers and let his hands rest on the table. "I see."

"Is that the real reason why you hired me? To protect me?"

"Don't be absurd," the hospital administrator scoffed. "You're a competent doctor and I needed one on staff. Do I really seem like the type of person that has that much compassion?"

"Honestly?" Mariko paused. "No, not really. I just wanted to make sure."

"Good," he nodded. "Don't ever doubt that again." He moved to get up again, but was immediately pushed back down by a large hand.

"Yo, Ryuuken!" the black-haired doctor chirped.

"Dr. Kurosaki, what are you doing in my hospital?" Ryuuken's dark eyes narrowed at the loud entrance of his long-time friend.

"Oi, whatever happened to 'Hi, Isshin.' Have you turned into a complete prude?"

The Quincy huffed in response.

"Relax, Ryuuken, I'm just doing a patient transfer." Ishhin rolled his black-grey eyes and turned his attention to Mariko. "Hello there, Dr. Yoshitune! And how are you on this fine day?"

"Peachy, Shinigami Isshin," she grumbled.

"See? That's more like it! Calling me Shinigami Isshin, I—" the usually cheerful doctor did a double-take at the white-haired woman. "Wait, did you just call me…?"

Mariko nodded, peering over the coffee cup.

"So that means that your memories…?"

She closed her eyes and nodded again.

"Damn," he cursed with a light smirk. He pulled a chair over to the table and sat down in it backwards. He propped up an elbow and leaned against his hand.

"I'll take that as my cue to leave," Ryuuken voiced, excusing himself and retreating to his office. Isshin followed his friend with his eyes, long since given up on making the man open up to others. He brought his attention back to Mariko, who looked like she had just been through a week of hell.

"What are you doing here? You should be with your family."

"I don't have a family."

"What are you talking about? Byakuya and Rukia-chan have missed you."

"I **don't have** a family," she insisted. Her glacier-blue eyes narrowed. "Hisana is dead. All that's left is me."

"Bullshit," Isshin spat out.

Mariko glared at her colleague. "Excuse me?"

"That's complete bullshit and you know it."

"What the hell would you know about it?"

"I know that you pushed them away because you're dying."

A gasp escaped Mariko's lips. She resisted the urge to splash the rest of her drink on the doctor's white coat—just barely. "How the fuck did you know that?" she hissed, keeping her head low.

"Unlike you, I keep in touch with people I care about," Isshin spoke harshly, not caring if he struck a nerve with the young doctor or not. She needed to understand. "Urahara Kisuke keeps me informed when it comes to my friends."

"I don't want to hear this," Mariko pushed herself up to leave. Isshin struck out an arm and clasped her wrist to keep her there.

"That's too damn bad, because you need someone to tell you before you completely screw up what's left of your life." He pulled her so she would fall back on her chair.

"Sit," he ordered, all traces of the jovial father had disappeared. What was left was a man who had commanded thousands into battle.

Isshin gave Mariko an intense stare, making sure her attention was on him. "I know you think you're doing the right thing by pushing them away," he started, "but you couldn't be making a worse mistake.

"It's selfish. They were given a chance to get to know you and you're just squandering it."

Mariko moved to object, but Isshin placed a hand up to stop her.

"I know you think you're very different from who you were before, but you're not. I can feel it—I can see it. A flame has been lit that is more of who you really are than who you have been your entire life."

The former Shinigami's words hit the spot. She had felt more like a person recently, but she contained it behind a solid mask. Being around Byakuya and Rukia had brought down the walls she hid behind, and finding herself as she was before was jarring. But she loved them both and didn't want them to go through losing her all over again.

"I," Mariko averted her eyes. "I don't want to hurt them."

"That's something only they can decide."

"They'll never forgive me."

"Don't be stupid. You haven't even given them a chance."

"They shouldn't have that chance in the first place." The young doctor's white brow furrowed in thought. She could feel her protective shell crack, even though she pushed to hard to keep it up. Mariko stood up, the chair squeaking as it moved across the linoleum floor.

"You're losing them, Mariko."

Isshin's voice forced her to look back at him. He was distressed over the situation, but it couldn't be helped.

"I lost them a long time ago."

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"I don't think I can do this," Rukia shifted her weight, staring up and up at the tall building that was Karakura Hospital.

"Don't tell me you're going to chicken out." Ichigo's brows were cross. "My dad's putting his ass on the line to coax your sister out."

"What if it doesn't work? What if she really doesn't care?" the young Shinigami's face drooped. She distracted her thoughts by straightening out wrinkles in her skirt.

"Hey, don't think like that," he lightly shook her by the shoulders. She kept her head down in shame, so he tipped her chin up to look at him.

"You can do this." He locked his eyes to hers, making sure she knew he meant it. Her violet orbs softened, taken in by the intensity of his gaze and the confidence he constantly filled her with.

'_You're wonderful,'_ she thought but didn't say it out loud. She pulled him down for a quick kiss, pressing her small rosy lips against his mouth. She stepped back and saw that his eyes were still closed. "You're too tall," she commented to lighten the mood.

Ichigo opened one eye and shot her a crooked grin. "No, you're just too short."

"I am perfectly sized, strawberry head," Rukia stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her arms.

"You're just thinking of how things were in the 19th century. Times have changed, old woman." A punch hit his arm in response. Ichigo made a face and rubbed the sore spot.

The automatic doors of the emergency opened, prompting both of them look up to see who triggered the motion detector. To their disappointment, Isshin strolled out with his shoulders hunched with defeat, hands stuffed in his doctor's coat pockets. Rukia searched the man's face with hopeful eyes, but he looked up and shook his head.

Her face fell with sorrow. "I gotta get out of here," she whispered.

"I'll take you home," Ichigo said lowly.

"No," Rukia breathed out. "I don't want to go home yet." She looked up at the hazel eyes she loved so much. She reached for his hand and lightly squeezed his fingers. "I just need some time alone."

He was disappointed, but he nodded with understanding. He moved a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs out of the way. With that, he planted his lips on her forehead, closing his eyes in the process. "Come back soon, okay?" he breathed into her hair. She gave him a sad smile and nod.

Ichigo waved over his shoulder as he and his dad left Rukia standing in front of Karakura Hospital. Isshin glanced back, sending her an unspoken message that he understood why she needed this time alone. As crazy as the man could be, he was amazingly intuitive when it came to watching over his family. Now that she was with Ichigo, she was even more a part of his family than a self-proclaimed third daughter.

A small chill coursed down Rukia's spine, but she couldn't tell if it was from the fall breeze or her own nerves. She stood in the same spot for a few minutes watching the father and son depart. A swift wind kicked up, making her floral patterned skirt around her legs. She crossed her arms and rubbed them for warmth, her petite hands running over the fuzzy light pink cardigan. She may have been in a gigai, but it didn't mean she could feel any less. Her heart didn't feel any less pain either. She was disappointed that her sister didn't want to see her, but it wasn't a deep cut as this felt. She lifted her head to the sky for a few moments, breathing in the crisp air.

'_You have a connection with her that I could only hope to achieve.'_

Byakuya's words—however painful for him to admit—were right. The tug at her heart was evidence enough. She turned her head, looking up to the top of the hospital building. She couldn't be alone now; she had to go to her.

Rukia took a deep breath and then moved her feet towards the hospital entrance. She found herself being lead through the maze of halls by instinct. She ignored the elevators, making her way up the dizzying stairwell. She didn't count the number of flights she had gone up, just the knowledge that she was going to the top of the building. The final door was in view when she slowed to a stop. She stared at it for a second, contemplating on whether or not to open the steel blockade. Her hand reached though, and her body followed.

The heavy door creaked, swinging open widely. The top of the building was flat with a few generators and a helicopter pad for Life Flight—patients who were flown in for emergencies. Rukia took a glance around the building with her violet eyes searching. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her.

Mariko stood near the edge where the protective fencing lined the top of the building. Her thin pale fingers were laced in the grooves of the wire fence. Her white doctor's coat flapped behind her in the cool breeze.

Rukia hesitantly strode towards the figure. She swallowed and tried to compile her thoughts. It was a useless effort. Instead, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"I won't give up on you, Onee-san."

Mariko kept her back turned, but her shoulders slightly slumped forward. "I told you I didn't want to see you again, Rukia."

"I know," Rukia twisted her fingers together. "But I don't care." Her feet moved her closer to the woman. "I won't give up on you," she repeated.

"Why? It's not worth it." Her fingers curled around the wire fencing.

"You never gave up on me." Rukia stepped up next to Mariko. She didn't make eye contact and kept her gaze out over the town. "Nii-sama told me that you looked for me everyday. You even told him that you couldn't love him because your heart belonged to me."

Mariko's lips thinned to a line. "That was a long time ago."

"Doesn't mean that it's not true."

There was no response. The two sisters stood in silence, taking in the sight of the town and the October air. Rukia sighed, and licked her lips. "I know that you're very sick, and that's why you pushed us away."

From the side, Mariko's eyes narrowed.

"My, um," Rukia paused. She wasn't sure what to call Ichigo. Her boyfriend? Her lover? Her best friend? "My Ichigo was the first to figure it out."

"Ah," was all that was said. Mariko lightly nodded. "Then you know why I don't want to see you."

"I told you before, I don't care. You're my sister and I won't give up on you."

"Nothing can save me, so I don't want you here."

With a huff, Rukia looked over at the white-haired woman, bringing a hand up and clasping it over Mariko's hand on the fence. Rukia caught her eyes and the pools of glacier-blue were filled with regret.

Rukia gave her a weak smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

I've been having trouble writing this story lately. T_T  
Anyway, I will still update what I can, but don't expect the chapters to be uploaded as quickly as before, Sorry!


	14. Falling Slowly

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

**WARNING: LEMON AHEAD  
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It was nearly nightfall by the time Mariko returned to her apartment. Rukia was insistent that it didn't matter that she didn't have much time left in this world, getting to know her sister now would be worth whatever pain she would have to face. Mariko stared at the scrap of paper she clasped tightly in her hand. They had stayed at the top of the building in silence, with Rukia's hand holding on to hers. It was simple, but it was the most connection Mariko had with someone in a very long time. Rukia left things up to her in the end though, scrawling two telephone numbers on a piece of paper and slipping it into her coat pocket.

'_Nii-sama and I aren't going anywhere. Remember that.'_

She didn't deserve their forgiveness. She had abandoned her own blood, didn't truly love the man she married, and then made her husband promise to find her sister. She couldn't imagine how difficult things had been for Byakuya over the past fifty years, having to look at the face of Rukia that looked exactly like her. If it wasn't for her, the people she loved wouldn't have to deal with these problems again. All she had been was a burden.

Mariko's eyes narrowed and crumbled the scrap of paper up into a ball. She tossed it towards the bedroom trashcan with a solid thump. It narrowly missed, bouncing off the edge of the plastic rim and landing on the ground. She frowned, moving to pick up the trash. She quickly swiped it up, placing her hand over the can to drop it in, but she froze. She swallowed and turned her fist palm up—the paper was taunting her. She hung her head in defeat, carefully straightening out the crushed folds as she unraveled the ball. With a sigh, she placed the wrinkled scrap of paper on her bedside table.

A now recognizable sound of shunpo came from the open sliding door of her balcony. Mariko closed her ice-blue eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked aloud, not turning to the shadowed figure outside the window.

"Honestly, I am unsure," the smooth baritone replied. His voice held sad undertones that only she could hear. He stepped into her room, his wooden reed sandals barely made a sound on the plush carpet. The white captain's haori was a stark contrast against his black uniform.

"I don't want to see you," she said in a near whisper. She didn't know if she could look at him without falling apart. _You have to be strong._

"You're lying."

Mariko's eyes narrowed and she bit her lip. It was such a weak answer she didn't even believe herself. No matter what she told herself, with him here her secure walls starting crumbling. "Maybe."

"Hmph," he scoffed. Byakuya moved closer, sitting on the foot of her bed with his back turned to her. She glanced over at him. He still held his posture upright, his arms crossed into the sleeves of his kosode. His midnight black hair was parted in straight lines for the separations of the kenseikan. The white porcelain headgear glinted in the low warm lighting from a bedside lamp.

His voice cut through the thick tension. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Mariko decided to play the dense card.

"You know what I implied." His grey eyes shot to the corners, glancing over his shoulder.

It had always been difficult to lie to him when he looked at her like that. "I, um," she gulped. "Because you didn't need to know."

"That is not an acceptable response," Byakuya said calmly. "Of course I needed to know."

"Well I didn't want you know," she shot back. Her voice lowered to a murmur. "No one was supposed to."

"How long did you expect to keep it a secret? One day you would not show up to work and then all would find out?"

"It's not like that," she felt her brows furrow. "I don't need your pity."

Byakuya turned to look at her, his eyes nearly furious. "It is **not** pity," he emphasized. "It was never pity." His left hand now gripped his zanpaktou, his long fingers rubbing over its wrapping. "I loved you. I still…" he took a breath. "No matter what form you take."

The sting of tears hit Mariko like a ton of bricks. Even after everything she had done, he still wanted her.

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" Byakuya slightly tilted his head. Dark bangs hung over those eyes that could bore into her soul.

"I won't," she tore her face away from him. Salty tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, begging to drop. "I don't want to love you. I don't even know what you would call me." _But I do love you. I want you here with me. _A hand touched her cheek, pulling at her to look at him.

"How about, My Love?" He tipped her chin up, bringing his face close to hers.

"My Wife," he breathed.

Her glacier blues began to melt, their sad waves spilling out. The grey storm brewing within him reached out, catching the cold that dripped. His head moved down and his mouth brushed against hers. Mariko was shaken by the intensity of a brief touch. She pressed into him, taking his lips and taste in. He may have been in spirit form but he felt as solid and warm as he had always been.

He moved slower this time, his actions deliberate and hesitant instead of rushed and lustful as their first encounter. Calloused fingers ran lightly across her ivory skin, outlining every curve on her face. He kissed her gently at first, and then firmly when she returned his kisses. A hand ran down the side of her neck, an open palm pressed against the valley of her collarbone.

This time she reached back for him, her fingers tangling in his long hair at the nape of his neck. The silk of his silver-white scarf felt like feathers brushing against her wrist. His mouth slid across hers, a hot breath escaping in the process. His lips were solid against hers and not nearly as thin as he would make them look. She had forgotten how good of a kisser he was. He could easily turn her legs into jelly.

She didn't realize how much she had missed him—how much he had missed her. She completely gave into him, bringing herself closer so her chest was pressed up against his. Her tongue parted his lips, and he eagerly met hers with his own. His taste was familiar this time and she drank him with a velvety touch. His scent was a gentle musk, complimenting the lightly floral oak that seemed to follow him everywhere.

Suddenly it seemed like he was wearing too many layers. Her hands found the separation in his scarf where she could loosen the long garment and pull it off. She briefly pulled back from him, carefully draping the delicate silk over a chair next to her bed. She went back for another kiss, but he stopped her by placing his fingers on her lips.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Byakuya asked her lowly. His grey pools searched her face for anything that said no. "You could hardly bare to look at me earlier."

Mariko nuzzled her cheek against his hand. Her light blue eyes now looked like a clear sky instead of ice. "I just want you."

Then something happened that was so rare these days—Byakuya smiled. It wasn't a faint trace he would show on the rare occasion he made a joke, it was genuine. His eyes softened and the corners crinkled to the tiniest crow's feet, the single indicator that showed his age and the toll of war. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, but only because he lunged to take her lips again.

His movements changed—something that never ceased to amaze her in her past life or this one. He grew more forceful but knew her limits. One hand cupped her neck as the other moved to the small of her back. He pulled her in close, dipping his head down low to compensate for their difference in height. He may have been a full foot taller than her, but she still fit just as perfectly as before. She leaned back and he followed, laying her down against the soft comforter on her bed.

Her hand moved over the span of his shoulders, slipping into the layers of fabric and pushing them away from his skin. He assisted her, pulling the kosode out from the hakama waistband. The two layers of black and white hung from his arms and he shed them easily, tossing them onto the same chair where his scarf was draped. Mariko sat up, pulling her purple scrubs top over her head. She shook her white locks out after the fabric had ruffled them. With a small smile, she reached for the kenseikan and unclipped them from his hair. It fell in silky waves, sweeping across her petite hands. She slightly shuddered—the feeling was all too familiar. His hair ornaments clinked when she put them on her bedside table.

Calloused fingers ran up and down her arm, and changed their course, moving to her front. His large hand brushed between her breasts still covered by a sports bra and swept down to her soft belly, reacquainting her shape. Two fingers pulled loose the cotton tie from the waistband of her scrubs and tugged the thin pants down off her hips. An anticipative hitch caught in her breath, and she lifted her hips, helping him rid the garment. They landed on the carpet somewhere near the foot of the bed.

She leaned back against the numerous pillows she kept on her bed while he studied his prize. He sat perched on his knees and drew lines across her form, following every dip and turn on her upper body. He shifted, placing a knee between her legs and the other on her side. He brought his head down to her face, dark locks sweeping across her bare skin making her shiver. As they kissed, their hands roamed.

He had always had a trim frame but had bulked up since she had last seen him. Tight, compact muscles were littered with scars—some small, but some large. His chest was board and smooth under her tiny fingers. If possible, he was more chiseled than he had been all those years ago.

A whimper escaped her lips when his hand grazed across her breasts. She could swear she saw him make a small smirk and return his exploration to that area. He thumbed across the mound, teasing the fabric-covered nipple into a tight bud. The other hand found its way under the elastic constraints and gripped her. With a grunt, she arched her back and peeled the restrictive clothing off. He sat back with a heavy sigh, soft grey eyes watching her.

"I'm sorry," she broke the mood, "They're not much bigger in this life either."

His eyes moved from her chest to her face and twinkled with a faint grin. "They were always perfect," he breathed, putting his lips around one of the hard pink buds. A gasp broke free from her when he flicked his tongue. Her hand dug into his hair, grasping it by the roots. He took his time with the slow, delicious torture.

When she felt she couldn't take it anymore, her hands found the tie of his hakama sash, and tugged at the white fabric. The wide black pant legs loosened around his waist and she pushed them down his hips. He pulled back, shooting her a devious glare. He left the bed for a few seconds, quickly discarding the tabi socks and woven sandals. Senbonzakura was placed upright against the chair that held his other belongings. He came back to her, crawling his way up from the foot of the bed. He dove, teeth and wet lips crashed down on her throat. He let out a sharp breath when one of her hands managed to move through the folds of his loose hakama, finding him stiffened with desire.

She caught his eyes—this time hers were filled with mischief. She wrapped her hand around him, deliberately massaging to keep their heat going. He groaned into the column of her neck, bringing his hands down further to the center of her body. He paused near the base of her thigh, slipping two fingers in the elastic of her panties and slid them down. She felt a warm tug at her center, begging to be touched. To her delight, he was thinking the same thing. His fingers slid into her wet core, and her tightness immediately making her gasp out. His movements were controlled, knowing exactly where to press against her. When he pulled out, his fingers found her nub, gently massaging it until her back arched and she whimpered for him.

"I want you," her breathing was ragged and came in quick increments. That was all he needed to hear to push his hakama leggings off, throwing them against a wall. He paused for a moment, propping himself up above her so he wouldn't crush her with his weight.

"Please, Byakuya," she whispered out to him. Her eyes were pleading for this to happen. They held no more coldness or icy tones, only pure clear water.

She hiked a leg up around his hip to pull him closer towards her. His tip touched her hot, slick center, and then pushed in. He filled her with a single stroke, her walls completely closing around him with a firm embrace. She cried out, but not in pain—the familiarity of feeling him inside of her was too wonderful to cause any pain. They rocked together and her hips met his thrust for thrust. The rhythm quickened and a thick haze began to form around her head. She wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping them together as they both came closer to their peak. Her head fell back against the mattress with a cry as bursts of light filled her vision. She heard a groan rumble deep within his chest and his own crest grew near. She felt him stiffen within her, his thrusts grew fast before coming to a slow stop. A harsh breath ripped from his mouth and he relaxed, falling to her side.

With a pleased sigh, she flung an arm across his chest, snuggling down into the crook of his open arm. Sleep fell heavy on her eyes, so she rested against him. He pulled her close, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

_I love you, Kuchiki Byakuya._

She drifted off into a deep sleep before realizing she had said her thoughts aloud.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

I just love lemons. I hope you do too :-)


	15. Fix This

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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A sharp breath escaped his lips and Byakuya opened his eyes with a start. He sat up leaning on his elbows and was met with several pillows across his bare back. His dark raven hair fell around hard, muscular shoulders as he looked around at his surroundings. To his right, the sliding door balcony showed the faintest hint that morning was about to break. To his left, his clothes were neatly arranged and folded on Mariko's bedside chair—the same chair he had sat in watching over her the other night. He moved his hands through the soft cotton sheets and plush blankets, but where she laid was now cold. His hooded grey eyes narrowed with disappointment.

There was no note, no explanation as to why she left. His Shinigami uniform had been cared for, but it had not meant to be taken as a thoughtful gesture. Her message of absence was clear: he was no longer wanted. Shaking his head, Byakuya moved out from the bed he had intimately shared with his wife just hours ago and began dressing.

It was a mechanical routine to him, but each piece he slipped back on began to feel heavier and heavier. He reached for the kenseikan last, hesitantly parting and clipping the headpieces into place. That last piece felt the heaviest of them all. He hadn't felt this kind of despair since her hand closed in his had gone limp all those years ago.

He was losing her all over again.

'_Byakuya-sama…'_

'_Hisana, how many times must I insist you call me only by my name?'_

'_At least once more, my Lord.'_

'_I am not your Lord, my love. I am simply Byakuya.'_

_She gave a sad smile before speaking weakly. 'Forgive me, Byakuya-sama, for I could not return your affections…'_

Byakuya sighed to pull out of the past. Instead his mind drifted to their coupling and the words that fell out of her mouth. When they made love several times last night, it wasn't like when he was with Hisana, nor was it uncomfortable like being with a stranger. It was something new that he couldn't find any words to describe in place of exhilarating. She was familiar in the way she squirmed and reacted to his touch, but her eager willingness and generosity was something new. It wasn't that she hadn't been attracted to him in the past—she definitely had—but this time it was like a switch had been thrown and she was in fact one with him. The enthusiasm and want could only mean that what she had whispered in a sleep-driven confession was true: she did love him.

He closed his eyes to bring himself down into a calm meditation. Numerous threads erupted around him, but he was only looking for one. He searched, and found the lilac color of Mariko's reiraku was fading fast. He clenched a fist at his side, taking a deep breath before making his final decision.

He would not yield. He would not back down.

He would bring her back…back to him.

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Mariko pushed through a sparse crowd, hands extended in front of her as she moved through the hallway of Karakura Hospital at incredible speed. She found the room she was searching for and swung the door open widely, practically slamming into the tile when she burst through. Her eyes were wide and teary, frantically trying to hold back. Then she thrust open the next small metal door and leaned over, heaving the contents of her stomach into the bowl. She moved her head away from the rancid smell of bile, blood and partially digested food, leaning against the cold porcelain toilet. The chill felt good against the film of sweat on her forehead.

She coughed a few times, with the dank scent of acid attempting to escape. She swallowed against her fiery throat's objections, forcing the rest of the bile down. Her clear blue eyes were glassed over, but she refused to cry. Instead, she reached in a pocket for her cell phone and slowly dialed an unfamiliar number.

"Yeah, it's me," she responded to the voice on the other end. "It's started happening…

"I know...

"I know!

"Look, just figure something out okay? I don't know how long I can keep this up.

"I think I need to tell them something…

"I realize I said I wouldn't, but I'm not sure what to do anymore.

"Just find out if we can fix this." She clapped her phone shut loudly and leaned back against the thin steel door. With some effort, she pulled a few sheets of toilet paper out from the dispenser and wiped her mouth. Her eyes looked down with a grimace at the mixture of blood and a white mucus-like texture. _I can't believe this is what it looks like._

The clicking of footsteps brought Mariko out of her thoughts. "Mariko?" a male voice echoed throughout the empty bathroom. She hurriedly picked herself off the floor and flushed the toilet to get rid of the evidence. She cracked the door open to find none other than Kuchiki Byakuya standing in the sparse room filled with lockers and benches. He had switched into his gigai, dressed spectacularly in a mint green button down with grey slacks.

"What are you doing here? This area is for employees only," her voice intentionally dripped with ice and she pushed past him, finding a sink and mouthwash to get the sour taste out of her mouth. She gargled and spit out the bright green antiseptic.

Byakuya eyed her with wariness, then frowned before he spoke. "Why did you leave?"

Mariko braced her hands against the sides of the stainless steel sink and hung her head, back facing him. "Last night was a mistake," she said lowly.

"There was no error for what we did," he reasoned.

"I was weak. It was never meant to be." She didn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, but hoped that he would.

"I do not think you accept that as true," he calmly parried.

"Why not?" she practically shouted, turning around to face him with fear and misguided anger in her eyes. "Lord Kuchiki Byakuya, who carries himself like he thinks he knows everything, but he knows nothing!" She felt herself fuming with heavy breaths as her short white brows furrowed tightly together.

"That is because," he took a few steps toward her, "you told me otherwise last night."

"What are you talking about?" Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"You told me you loved me, and you meant it." He approached her with slow strides and his presence was overwhelming. All she wanted to do was rush into his arms.

"No, I didn't," she half-lied. She remembered thinking it but wasn't sure she had said that out loud.

"Yes, you did. I'm positive of it." Byakuya grew closer to her until they were nearly toe-to-toe. She looked into a deep pool of a calm storm across the sea and saw that he was being completely honest. He cupped a hand under her chin, fingering a thumb over her lightly rosy lips. She swallowed, trying desperately to hold a strong ground of resistance, but it was failing fast.

"Do you love me?" His voice felt far away and slightly muffled as if she was floating in a dream.

"No," she whispered against the thumb that gingerly touched her mouth.

"You're lying."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," his baritone soothed. His lips landed with a solid kiss and she felt her will break. Tears streamed down her ivory cheeks as he moved his mouth across hers.

"You stubborn fool," she said under her breath and pulled his face closer.

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"Anything?" Urahara looked through the communication monitor to his colleague. Morning had come all too soon, and every test he ran was unsuccessful. The frantic phone call he received from Mariko was all the more reason to find a solution quickly, but the skeletal painted face shook his head, dipping his yellow eyes down in defeat.

"Negative," Mayuri spoke. "The disease is in a much more advanced stage than we previously thought, especially after her experience earlier with the mask trying to surface prematurely. She does have some spiritual power, which is the only reason her body hadn't given up years ago. It's not enough, though. She can't overcome the infection the way your Vizards could. She's going to die."

"There has to be a way to save her," the shopkeeper removed his striped hat and ran a tired hand through his dull blonde locks.

"Well I mentioned before, there is one way to save her indefinitely," the mad-scientist twiddled his fingers together, the anticipation of bringing down a captain was itching in his veins.

"That's not an option," Urahara shot back. "Although Rukia escaped execution, it is still a serious crime to transfer Shinigami powers to a human—punishable by death. I doubt Yoshitsune-san would want anyone risking their own life to save hers. Besides, we don't even know if it would be enough."

"Then there's only one other way left," Mayuri sneered. "Choose to kill her before the transformation, or later when she turns."

"Three impossible choices," Urahara grumbled.

"It's a Hollow infection, Urahara! There **are** no other choices," his nasal voice was growing louder, thinning patience showing through. "It's latched on to her vital organs, including the Soul Chain and Soul Sleep. Once the spirit becomes separated from her body, she'll turn into a Hollow in a matter of minutes. The Soul Chain will literally eat her alive."

Urahara frowned and his expressions grew fierce. He knew Mayuri was right; he just didn't want to believe it. How could he tell a friend that the love of his life was chained to a horrible fate? A sharp gasp made him turn over his shoulder. His green-grey eyes widened in disbelief as a hint of raven hair flew out of view.

"Kuchiki-san!" he called out, pulling himself up to go after her.

"I just came by to get some more soul candy," Rukia weakly cried out. She hurried down the hallway, but Urahara caught her before she left the shop. He gripped her sweater and she stopped, shoulders hunched and head down. He heard her sniffle.

"Is it true?" she got out, her voice wavering. She turned to face him and her eyes were glistening with tears. "Is it true?" she demanded, this time louder with more conviction.

Urahara relaxed his hold on the young Shinigami's arm. "What did you hear?"

"Everything," she spat. Her short black brows narrowed together. "Is it true," she repeated.

The shopkeeper held his tongue and dropped his arm from hers. His eyes saddened with the reality of the situation. "Unfortunately, yes."

"There has to be a way to save her!" Rukia yelled out. "I could accept that she was dying, but this…this isn't death. This is worse!" Her breathing became labored and her cheeks were flushing red with anger. Tears pricked her large violet eyes but didn't fall.

"I…" Urahara paused. "I'm so sorry, Kuchiki-san."

"Don't," she stopped his apology. "You knew all this time and you didn't say anything!"

"She asked me not to tell. I keep my promises." Honestly, he did want to tell Byakuya and Rukia the truth of the situation. What Yoshitsune was putting her loved ones through was utter hell and her blind mistakes were only making this predicament more complicated. But as he had said before, this was not his call to make. He could only try to find a solution and he was failing at that, too.

Rukia looked up the man she and her comrades trusted when things got bad and didn't know if she could believe him. She thinned her lips and her usually bright amethyst eyes squinted into slits, contorting her usually china doll features into sullen anger. "Goddamn you," she hissed, turning on her heel to leave. Urahara couldn't move to stop her.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
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Did that throw you guys for a loop? Don't worry if you don't understand about the disease, more will be explained soon.


	16. Explanations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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The sound of shunpo hitting his ears made Byakuya pull back from Mariko. He distinctly heard it pulse near an upper window leading to the outside. He stood on guard, keeping his hands squarely on her shoulders to keep her calm. Suddenly his eyes went wide as a long, thin sword appeared in front of him, directly pointed at Mariko's neck from the side. His gaze drifted into his peripheral vision and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Too stunned to make her presence known by the sound of her voice, Rukia stood in a battle stance, Sode no Shirayuki unsheathed and held shakily at her own sister's jugular. Violet eyes were strained and littered with tears of anger and hurt. Her face seemed paler than usual, its ivory tint replaced with a mild grey undertone. Her body was trembling with fear, anger, and something more, but she held her position with no hint of backing down.

"Step away, Nii-sama," she spoke with a slight hiccup. She sniffled as she took in a breath, a futile effort to calm her nerves.

"Rukia, have you gone mad?" He lashed out at his kin, confounded by what could have possibly provoked Rukia to act so strangely.

"Byakuya!" she yelled out, shifting her fierce gaze into his direction. He was taken aback by her sudden informality and the tone in her voice. When Rukia was upset, she was not a force to be reckoned with. Her voice dripped with an air of command, "Step away."

Hesitantly, he obliged, taking only a few steps back from Mariko. Rukia was unsteady on her feet, but her eyes locked on her sister and wouldn't budge. "Why didn't you tell me?" she got out with a harsh sob.

Mariko closed her eyes and lightly dipped her head, the motion making Sode push against her fair skin. How Rukia had found out about the infection, she did not know, but it was obvious now that she knew what was really going on. "I was hoping I didn't have to."

"It's not fair!" Rukia cried out, her hand trembled more from the fury that ripped through her. "It's not going to be like this." Her breathing was uneven—control was obviously not high on her list at this moment. Nevertheless, she lowered her zanpaktou from her sister's neck and slowly brought the shaking tip down to Mariko's chest. It came to rest directly over her heart.

"I won't condemn you to that horrible fate," she sobbed.

"Rukia," Mariko softly spoke, raising her eyes until they met her sister's terrified gaze. "Don't do this."

"No, please!" Rukia shook her head adamantly, and tears fell freely on the cold floor. "This could save you."

"No, Rukia." Mariko sadly shook her head and calmly placed a steady hand on the blunt side of Sode no Shirayuki and pressed down. Rukia's grip weakened and the trembling zanpaktou dropped, falling at her side. Just then, Mariko quickly pulled Rukia in close, fully embracing the slightly smaller girl. Rukia initially stiffened from the sudden grasp, but soon her face fell and tears began to steadily flow.

"Don't give up your life just to save mine," Mariko whispered to Rukia, pressing the side of her face against her sibling's raven locks. Rukia cried into Mariko's shoulder and grabbed for her, holding on tightly with her arms around her waist. Mariko let out an unsteady sigh at the tight squeeze, bringing a free hand up to hold Rukia's head with comfort. She stroked Rukia's dark hair, feeling the silken strands under her long fingers.

Byakuya did not have a clue what to say. From the position Rukia held and where she was aiming implied that she was about to transfer spiritual power to Mariko, turning her into a Shinigami the same way she had done for Ichigo. Rukia fully understood what the punishment for transferring spiritual powers to a human was, but she was ready to give it all up again. What had prompted this sudden urge to do something as drastic as risk the consequences of her actions? All Shinigami knew that death was not the end—her soul would be returned to Soul Society once the body perished. Mariko's time on Earth was limited, but there was another chance in the afterlife.

Then something dawned on him that hadn't crossed his mind before: she wasn't bound for Soul Society. Instead she would be met with a "horrible fate," as Rukia had called it. Either she would be dragged to another world or…his eyes widened at the thought. _It couldn't be,_ he tried to convince himself.

Mariko glanced over at Byakuya, a hint of sorrow showing through her clear blue eyes. A sad frown formed and her white brows wrinkled with concern. She took in a deep breath before finally speaking.

"I think it's time we all sat down to talk."

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Yoruichi stood in the doorway as two Shinigami approached her with distrust written across both their faces. The white-haired woman leading her husband and her sister up the steps of Urahara's candy store gave her an apologetic look. The Flash Goddess knew that their anger was warranted and wished she had never agreed to keep Mariko's secret hidden. But like the woman who had captured Byakuya's heart, she too had hoped they would have never had to know. She had even resorted to helping Urahara try to find a medicinal cure, a daunting process with chemicals she hated but had the skills for nonetheless.

Ever since they first received the information about the presence of a Hollow infection, she, Urahara, his entire shop, Mayuri and his brightest assistants had been researching and testing for a cure nonstop. They hadn't slept in days—which wasn't a problem for the well-trained Shinigami—but stress was taking a toll on their psyche. Mariko's disease was more aggressive than their first assumptions and this latest development with the Hollow trying to break through her physical body fell on them like a ton of bricks. She could see it written on her lover's face when he picked up the call from her just moments earlier: they were too late.

Rukia tried to contain herself, forced control was clearly visible with every motion. Byakuya shot her a look out of the corner of his eye that said he was disappointed with her. Yoruichi lightly grimaced from the expression her former student gave her, but she didn't say a word. She kept to herself, crossing her arms across her ample chest and holding on to one of her shoulders. She wanted to comfort her old friend, give him words of advice, anything to get that look off his face, but it was pointless. She didn't want to admit it, but there wasn't a happy ending in this picture.

Her dark purple hair flipped behind her as she turned, following the trio into the shop. Yoruichi's golden eyes looked to the modified souls Ururu and Jinta, who had immediately froze when the Shinigami came into the shop. Ururu's dark eyes began to glisten and her small hands tightly wrapped around the broom she had been using. Jinta looked over the girl he considered the closest thing he'd ever have to a sister and put an arm around her shoulder.

They walked to the back of the shop, Tessai giving the three a nod of a greeting, and slid open the door to Urahara's private quarters. The former 12th Division captain looked terrible. His signature green striped bucket hat was discarded on the floor; his blonde hair was ruffled and no longer had a shine. He looked over to his side as they came into the room, his green-grey eyes were dull and dark circles stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. The light scruff he usually donned had grown out in patchy areas. Rukia immediately felt horrible for yelling at him earlier. She hadn't even stopped to see how much stress he had put himself under in order to save her sister's life. He was in as much agony over the situation as she was.

Urahara didn't speak, but gestured to the trio to take a seat in his quarters. He looked over them and gave a nod to Yoruichi, who closed the door. Before the door was completely sealed, she sent him an unspoken, "Good luck."

The tired shopkeeper leaned back, bracing his exhausted form against the mat with his hands. He ran one through his locks before starting. "Yoshitsune-san, are you sure you want to disclose all the information?"

Mariko sat up straight and hesitated. Slowly, she began to nod. "Yes," she paused to close her eyes in a soft sigh. "It's time."

"I see. Now, where to start…"

"I suggest you begin explaining what a 'Hollow infection' is and continue from there," Byakuya spoke up.

"Now, now, Kuchiki-sama, let's not be too hasty." Urahara's singsong tone returned briefly, but his face remained serious. "To understand any disease, you must first find its origin."

Byakuya frowned, but kept his mouth shut. It usually wasn't in his nature to be impatient, but this was a far too serious matter to play Urahara's games.

"As you know by now, I discovered Yoshitsune-san's identity about a month ago. It was not my intention to track anyone specific down, just purely coincidental. Since the end of the Winter War, I have been conducting a routine soul sweep of Karakura to make sure things are kept in order. With the exception of an," he cleared his throat, "_extraordinary_ visitor this summer, things have been relatively normal.

"When the fall season began, I found something interesting. It seemed there was a soul that was confusing the signals I received. After further examination, I discovered what was causing the disruption." He placed a hand open-palmed towards Mariko. "Yoshitsune-san is indeed a unique soul."

Rukia and Byakuya looked over at Mariko with wonder. This time, she didn't hide and met their gaze head on. Her sky-blue eyes told them to trust him.

"It appears that Yoshitsune-san was not only composed of the reincarnation of her past life, but a combination of both of you, Kuchiki Byakuya and Kuchiki Rukia. After consulting with a colleague of mine, this was confirmed. It seemed that her past life's soul was so tightly intertwined with you two, that it held on to pieces of your essence when she was funneled into a new body.

"The combination provided some spiritual pressure, but unfortunately due to the abuse Yoshitsune-san suffered in childhood, the bond was weakened and allowed a parasitic Hollow to slip in. It squatted inside, slowly attaching itself to her Soul Chain and Soul Sleep, disguising itself as the disease that was already printed on her genes: Endometriosis."

"How is it that a Hollow invaded a living human?" Byakuya interjected. "I am not familiar with any case such as this."

"A Hollow infection is rare, but there have been records of some in the living world. Those humans whose bodies become possessed are prime examples. The difference between Yoshitsune's infection and the other cases is that hers lay dormant and was suppressed thanks to her naturally high reiatsu." Urahara paused to let the information sink in. Moments passed before anyone could say a word.

They weren't given the opportunity anyway.

"Oh come on, Kisuke! You stopped right at the best part," a nasally voice sounded over the speakers in the room.

Urahara turned around with a glare as his large monitor flickered on. "Mayuri," his voice was threatening, "how long have been eavesdropping?"

"Since always," the skeletal face eerily grinned. "So are you going to deliver the news or shall I? I'm just itching to see the look on Captain Kuchiki's face."

Byakuya felt his features twitch at the sight of the 12th Division captain. "Was **this** the colleague you referred to, Urahara?"

"Was there ever a doubt in your feeble mind, Kuchiki?" Mayuri cackled. "Did you even notice that I implanted my bacterial information gatherer into your system when you attempted to strangle me? By the way, you have Kisuke to thank for the antibody **after** you passed the bacteria on to Yoshitsune." His long, slender fingers twiddled together in glee as Byakuya's eyes grew wide and shot a murderous look at the shopkeeper.

"You've let that woman cloud your judgment. Makes me wonder how you'll react when she transforms into a Hollow and tries to kill you." Mayuri's teeth ground together with evil intent and the corners of his mouth grew broad.

Suddenly the mad scientist dropped his smile. A burst shot out from his shoulder, cutting off nearly half his torso and dark red blood splattered against the camera lens. All parties in the room looked over to Urahara, who had instantaneously stood up with his zanpaktou unsheathed and stretched out through the monitor. His olive green robes lightly fluttered around him as his orange reiatsu seeped out from all sides of his body. "Mayuri," his voice was cut with an ominous female tone. "You went too far."

The bloodied mouth took in shallow breaths. "Benihime, you are one murderous bitch."

At that moment, Mayuri's body contorted into a gelatinous green liquid, melting into his chair. Urahara gracefully slid his zanpaktou back into his cane and his reiatsu simmered down. The screen went to black as he turned around to face the three visitors. "He'll be fine," he broke out with a goofy grin.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
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In my opinion, Urahara is a total badass beyond anyone's imagination. :-D


	17. What Now

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Two petite figures stood outside Urahara's shop in silence. He had taken his time, answering any questions the Kuchiki's had with as much as he knew about Mariko's condition. The only thing he did not have a solid answer on was how much time she had left. All he knew was that her body was becoming fragile and they were running short on time. The transformation could be in days, weeks, a month…it was difficult to tell. However, he would continue his research, pulling in Nemu and Akon—Mayuri's most brilliant assistant—to take place of the currently incapacitated Captain Kurotsuchi.

"So what now?" Rukia was the first to ask.

"I'm not sure," Mariko let out a light chuckle. "I didn't expect you to stick around." She gave Rukia a small smile and cupped her cheek. "But I'm glad you did."

"Nee-san," Rukia whispered. Her large violet eyes had cleared most of the tears but were still shaky. She hesitantly reached for the young woman, stepping into her open arms. Mariko held the Shinigami close to her body and was finally happy to see how beautiful she had grown to be. "I love you, Imouto," she said into Rukia's ear.

Rukia felt her lip tremble, but found herself smiling instead of breaking down. "I love you too, Onee-san."

Mariko hugged her sister in silence, enjoying the peace that passed between them. All secrets had been uncovered and nothing could keep them apart anymore. It was refreshing to make amends after all they had been through. Part of her still felt guilty for leaving Rukia as a child in Soul Society, but she was mostly relieved and proud of what she had become. She was a powerful Shinigami, had several close friends, a brother who took her in as family, and the love of young man.

A board creaked on the front porch, immediately making Mariko look up to see who it was. To her disappointment, it was only Jinta sweeping dust out through the front door.

"Don't worry, he'll come around," Rukia took a step back from their embrace, but held her sister's hand.

Mariko lightly shook her head. "He hadn't even looked at me since he found out."

"Nii-sama just needs time. You know how he is."

"Yeah but," Mariko sighed, "This is different. I have this…_thing_ living inside of me." She hung her head and rubbed Rukia's hand with her thumb. She lowered her voice, "I know I wouldn't want to be with me."

Rukia slightly cocked an eyebrow. "You…don't know about Ichigo, do you?"

"Ichigo…your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, my…boyfriend," the young Shinigami felt a small flush rise to her cheeks. She had never given him a label before, but that term seemed appropriate for now. Rukia cleared her throat before continuing. "He's part Hollow."

The white haired woman suddenly looked up with wide sky-blue eyes. "How is that possible?"

"It's a long story, but basically he's what we call a 'Vizard'—a Shinigami-Hollow hybrid that can tap into Hollow power when needed. The Hollow remains under tight control, only being unleashed when he feels that it's necessary."

"Ahh," Mariko nodded. "Urahara mentioned the specifics about Vizards to me, but I didn't realize Ichigo was one. But…" she had to look away from Rukia when she spoke, "I can't control mine. I don't have enough power."

"And we will try to find a way to fix that," Rukia insisted. She put her hands on the woman's shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. "But my point is this: I love Ichigo, for the man that he is. And I love you, because you are my sister. It doesn't matter what else you are. I know that Nii-sama loves you, too. Just give him time, trust me."

Although Byakuya had never come out and said the words, Rukia knew just by looking at him that the torch he carried for his wife was still burning strong. It was routine for them to go Hisana's shrine back in the Kuchiki Manor, but sometimes she had caught him there late at night, especially after a difficult battle. He wouldn't speak except for a few words under his breath, sitting in front of the pillar as the incense burned down. Rukia would perch quietly in a tree, observing the man that she called her brother, with a newfound respect for him. His otherwise cold demeanor was overshadowed by the sensitive, caring man who still loved the wife he had lost fifty years ago.

Surprisingly, Mariko smiled. "Thank you for that, Rukia. And you don't have to keep calling me 'Onee-san,' you know."

Rukia blinked, slightly taken off guard. Closeness was not something that came easily to her, so she wasn't used to this sudden declaration. She had never called Byakuya anything except his formal title, and only a few of her other comrades' names were used casually. Besides, this woman was Hisana, Lady Kuchiki, or Mariko—it would be difficult to figure out which name to use. "Forgive me but," Rukia paused, "I'm not quite sure what else to call you." Her lone bang shifted when she hung her head in a light shame.

"I go by 'Mariko' now, so that is what you can call me. Besides," the white-haired woman slightly grinned, "it was our mother's name."

"Our mother's?" Rukia practically gasped.

"Yes, _our_ mother's." Mariko tucked a stay hair behind Rukia's petite ear. "I hadn't remembered a lot of my original life until it starting coming to me in dreams, but now I know." She sighed and her sky-blue eyes softened.

"Listen, I have to go back to work, but can you come by for dinner tonight? I'll cook, I'm a great cook."

Rukia grinned. "I would love to."

"Excellent," Mariko softly beamed. "Oh, and bring Ichigo. I would like to meet him besides that one night when Byakuya had him in a kidou lock."

A snicker sounded from Rukia's throat. "All right. I'll try to make sure he behaves himself this time."

"I'm sure you will. We Kuchiki women know how to keep our men in line." Mariko gave her sister a quick wink. Rukia couldn't help but laugh at her comment. When the moment had passed, Mariko held a somber look on her face. She had behaved so badly towards her family that she doubted they would forgive her this easily.

"You will come tonight, won't you?" Her eyes held a scared look of concern, overpowering the glimmer of hope she had a few seconds ago.

Rukia nodded, making sure to give her sister a most sincere expression. "Of course."

"Good," the hope was calmly restored. Mariko placed a gentle hand on Rukia's shoulder and lightly squeezed. "There is much to say."

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Byakuya could not figure out how he should react to this news. He sat in the common room, unable to move and barely able to think. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there until Yoruichi snapped her bronze fingers in front of his face.

"Oi, Byakuya-boo," she spoke gently. "You went comatose there for a while. You okay?"

His hooded grey eyes blinked and titled up to look at her. "After all of this, how is it do you think I feel?" The storm grey turned into slits of irritation. Yoruichi's golden cat eyes frowned right back.

"Pissed." She cocked her head to the side. "Frustrated. Aggravated. Pick any of those negative words. But I wouldn't be in here moping alone."

"I am _not_ moping," Byakuya insisted.

"I thought you were over this, Byakuya. You said you wouldn't be mad at her anymore."

"I am not upset with her, I am displeased with **you**. You and that other _exile_." He narrowed his eyes further, immediately standing so he could look down at her.

Yoruichi sharply hissed, "What the hell?"

"You lied to me, plain and simple. I don't know if I can trust you." Byakuya moved to get past her, but Yoruichi stepped in his way. She stuck a hand out against his chest to stop him from pressing forward.

"Hold up a minute there, young man. I didn't want to lie to you. It's not like I had a choice." She titled her head forward, meeting his argument head on.

"This situation was too important to keep a secret, no matter what hopeless promise you swore to uphold." Byakuya kept his voice calm, but it the undertones were picking up on the dissatisfaction bubbling under his skin.

"Gods, Byakuya. What the fuck happened to you?"

"Pardon me?" he cocked an eyebrow, taken off guard by her change in subject.

"What happened to the man who stepped in front of a sword not once, but twice, to save his sister? Have you forgotten what lengths people go to protect their loved ones?"

"I fail to see your point."

"I **didn't** want to lie," Yoruichi firmly stated. "But sometimes that's what happens when you're trying to protect the people you love. I thought that you would understand that."

"I'm inclined to disagree," Byakuya tried to move past her again, but she shoved her open palm against him to keep him in his place.

"Kuchiki Byakuya," the Shihouin Princess brought her voice down into a threatening tone. She'd be damned if that brat who constantly challenged her to shunpo races would walk away from her without her saying fight was over. Her eyes remained sharp while her mouth curved into a devious feline grin. "I'm sorry, what did you say? All I heard was muffled words because your head is shoved up your noble ass."

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The large monitor flickered on and a new face appeared. A tall man with dark, jaggedly parted hair looked blankly into the screen. His expression was difficult to read, in part that he had no eyebrows, replaced by an asymmetrical pattern of three short horns. His beady eyes remained locked on Urahara. "Urahara-dono," his smooth monotone voice acknowledged.

"Oi, Akon. How have you been?" Urahara casually waved to the Department Head of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. A long time had passed, but Akon still respected his former captain.

"Better than Captain Kurotsuchi it would seem. That's twice this month he's had to transform into his gelatinous state." Akon closed his eyes in mild irritation.

"Twice?" Urahara perked a curious brow.

"A few weeks ago he provoked Captain Zaraki into a duel." The tall, stoic man refrained from rolling his eyes at the memory. Mayuri and Kenpachi would often exchange heated banter—usually in a Captain's meeting—but this time Zaraki completely lost it. The violent Eleventh Division captain ended up in the Fourth's emergency room seeking an antidote to the poison Mayuri injected him with, and the green goo that was Mayuri slithered back to his lab to find Nemu.

Urahara couldn't help but chuckle, hiding his smiling face behind a well-placed fan. "I see," he grinned. Mayuri would never learn to pick on someone his own size.

Akon kept a still face, but was pleased to be working with his former mentor. "As far as more serious news goes, I will be taking over Captain Kurotsuchi's duties as lead for the Yoshitsune project."

"Understood," the shopkeeper nodded.

"I was grateful you forwarded the minor information about the subject as soon as you made your discovery. This has given me time to create a few tests to stabilize the subject's condition."

"And the results?"

"So far none have been conclusive. I am developing a theory, although there is no official way to test it without severe consequences. All efforts have so far resulted in unacceptable side effects."

Urahara regretfully nodded. "Please continue your work, Akon. Your tests have been showing a positive progression so far. Let's keep this momentum going."

"Yes sir, Urahara-dono." Akon slightly bowed and the monitor flickered off. As the last line of light disappeared into the dark screen, Urahara spotted a familiar reflection in the dull glass.

"Captain Kuchiki," he spoke in a tired singsong pitch. "Might I ask why you are back here in my laboratory? You should be spending time with your wife."

Byakuya stepped forward as his weightless silk scarf flowed rippled behind him. "How long can you hold a senkaimon gate open?"

Urahara tilted his head down and peered at the noble under the brim of his green striped hat. "Why do you ask?"

"I have a matter in Soul Society I must attend to."

"I can send a Hell Butterfly messenger for business matters," Urahara countered. He gently flapped his paper fan over his face, concealing his mouth as he spoke.

"This is not business, Urahara," the Shinigami captain breathed a slightly defeated sigh. "And it is not an order, it is a request." His hooded grey eyes brewed a quiet storm.

The former captain cracked a smile underneath his fan. "Will two hours be long enough?"

"Plenty," Byakuya nodded once. As soon as the gate was ready, he knew exactly where he was heading.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

Yoruichi is funny :-D  
"Imouto" = Younger Sister

Anyway, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes. I literally just finished this chapter.  
I'm also apologizing for this chapter taking much longer than the others.  
Thanks to a brainstorm session with **JasoTheArtisan**, this got done today! Go give him glomps :-P

Oh yeah, I totally forgot to mention that I made a pseudo-cover for "Sideways."  
The link to it is on my profile page. It goes back to my deviantART page where it is uploaded. :-)

Enjoy! There is more to come! :-D


	18. Show Me

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

**Limes ahead! Duck and Cover! ;-)  
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Mariko held a smile that she could not wipe off her face all evening. Rukia and Ichigo showed up at her doorstep exactly on time for dinner. Her younger sister was beaming with excitement to finally get to know her blood kin. Surprisingly, Ichigo seemed nervous in front of the young doctor, constantly shifting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. She tried her best to welcome him warmly, assuring the young Shinigami that she wasn't going to treat him the way Byakuya did. Of course that didn't stop her from drilling him with all questions a caring sibling would ask about her sister's boyfriend.

She was shocked to hear the full story about how the two of them had met and all the trials they had endured over the past year and half. Although the situation with Rukia sentenced to execution had been dreadful, this boy risked life and limb to get her back. She was disappointed to hear Byakuya's initial role, but understood why he was trying to set an example of holding up laws. Relief washed over her once they recounted how Byakuya apologized for his behavior, even taking a sword in the chest for Rukia. From then on, Byakuya and Rukia's relationship as brother and sister grew strong. He assisted them further when they left for Hueco Mundo during the Winter War, letting Rukia and Renji, his Vice-Captain, leave Soul Society against the Captain-Commander's orders. Mariko silently laughed to herself for his renewed sense of how law and order could be bent through loopholes. That was the Byakuya she knew and loved.

The hour was growing late and Ichigo suppressed a yawn. His action didn't slip past Mariko though, and she began to wrap up the long overdue conversation with her sister. Suddenly there was a quiet knock on the door, forcing her to stop mid-sentence. Three heads turned to the front of the apartment with curiosity. Mariko excused herself and got up, strolling to the door and hoping it was who she thought it was. When she peered through the peephole, her clear blue eyes softened. She quickly undid the brass latches and leaned against the frame of the door as she opened it.

"Hi," Mariko softly said.

"Hello," a smooth baritone replied. Byakuya stood on her doorstep looking rather uneasy. "Pardon the late visit, but I had to see you." He tilted his head to see past the petite woman and recognized two figures in her living room. "I apologize. I did not realize you had company." His somber expression fell further and he turned to leave.

"No, no, we were just about to head home, Nii-sama," Rukia piped up and immediately got to her feet. She tugged Ichigo by the collar to get him out of his seat and he followed with a sleepy frown.

"Byakuya," the orange-haired teenager nodded a greeting. He motioned a hand out to Rukia to take it as they were leaving.

Protective instinct kicked in and Byakuya pointed a finger towards Ichigo's outstretched hand. "Byakurai" he whispered. A short, quick bolt of white lightening shot out from the tip of his index finger, singeing the Substitute Shinigami's skin. Ichigo yelped and shook his hand in the air.

"What the fuck, Byakuya?!" he cursed loudly.

"That was simply a warning, Kurosaki Ichigo." The captain lowered his voice, "You will not lay a finger on Rukia."

"I can't say the same for her," he murmured under his breath. His snide remark was met by a shoe hitting the back of his head.

"Well not anymore, I'm not!" Rukia snarled, hopping down the hallway on one foot as she put her shoe back on. Ichigo growled and was quick on his feet to catch up to the red-faced Shinigami. Their arguing echoed down the empty hall, even when Rukia pushed her way through to the staircase.

"Good Night!" Mariko yelled down to them. "Heh, young love," she chuckled, rolling her eyes and bringing her attention back to Byakuya. She cocked a white brow when she noticed he was still glaring after his sister's boyfriend.

"Get over it, Byakuya," she sighed and playfully patted his shoulder. "That boy's not going anywhere."

"I understand that much," he brought his gaze back to the young woman, "however, that does not mean I have to like the situation."

"You're hopeless," she shook her head with a smile. A light scoff was his only response.

They stood there for a moment before Mariko felt an uncomfortable tension rise between them. That's when she realized she didn't know what he was doing here. How could he act so nonchalant when he wouldn't even look at her earlier? Why did he even come here tonight? She looked up at him from under jagged white bangs, catching his storm grey eyes. They flashed the hint of a smile, making her heart race.

"So," he breathed out. "Are you going to be a gracious host an invite me inside?"

Mariko hesitantly nodded, pushing her front door open further so he could step into her apartment. She closed her eyes as he moved past her, inhaling his scent that she had missed so much. She turned and closed the door with her back, making sure to keep distance between the two of them. It was difficult enough to resist the urge to run into his arms now that he was standing in her living room. She finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"Why are you here?" Her head drooped, "You couldn't even look at me earlier today…"

"Which is precisely why I am here now." Byakuya stepped forward, careful to keep his posture straight and strong. He waited until she looked back up at him to continue.

"You're right," he confessed, "I am a stubborn fool, and for that I apologize for any doubts you hold. My behavior was rash and thoughtless. I completely understand if you are upset with me." He took slow steps toward her as he spoke, gradually closing the gap between them.

"I stand before you to ask for your forgiveness."

Mariko felt a knot form in her throat. She raised a petite hand to her face, too stunned to make a sound. This should be other way around. **She** should have been the one apologizing for pushing him away and keeping her disease a secret. She had manipulated him into sleeping with her to satisfy her own selfish needs to keep him close, to feel him just once more. Then she left him alone in the morning, only to have him running after her. She had done everything wrong, so why would he still want her?

"Very well," he nodded. Her answer was silence, which was not a good sign. He felt his features fall in disappointment at her rejection. "Before I go, I feel I must offer you something." He dug a hand into his slacks and fished out two pieces of jewelry. A matching white gold ring set rested in the palm of his hand—one band was small and the other was nearly twice its size. A tiny gasp escaped Mariko's lips.

"I have been holding on to these for a long time, in a location of Kuchiki Manor only I knew of. They're still yours if you want it." Byakuya swallowed and looked down at the shiny modest bands.

"They've always been yours."

A hand reached out to the rings, but then pulled back. Byakuya was trying his best not to just give them to her. If she wanted their old wedding bands, she'd have to take them from his hand. He just wished she would hurry up so he could get out of here as soon as possible. It was obvious that she wasn't sure she wanted him around, but what else could he say to rectify all that he had done wrong?

"Once again, I apologize for anything that—"

"Stop it," Mariko cut him off. She had finally found her voice and wasn't about to let him go. "Just stop. No more apologies. We could stand here all night trying to make amends or to right any wrongs." She closed the remaining space between them and placed a steady hand on his chest.

"Can't we just skip it?" She peered up at him with clear blue eyes. "We screwed up, okay? We both acted like stubborn, stupid fools." Mariko dropped her gaze to the silver colored pieces in Byakuya's palm. She brought a hand up and traced the shapes with a fingertip.

"I don't care anymore. I don't know how much time I have left," she picked up the smaller ring and slid it on the third finger of her right hand, "but I know I don't want to waste it. I want to gossip and go shopping with my little sister. I want to go to dinner and a movie with you." She reached for his right hand, bringing it up to waist level, and smoothly slid his wedding band on his third finger.

"I want to go to sleep in your arms every night, wishing that the sun would rise a bit later each morning." Mariko took in a deep breath and brought her free hand up to cup Byakuya's face, brushing her thumb against the ivory of his cheek. He closed his eyes and he felt his chest begin to swell with a joy he hadn't felt in decades. His face nuzzled against her, bringing up his left hand to clasp on top of hers. Behind the darkness of his closed lids, he felt her body lean into his and tiptoe up to him.

"I love you," she whispered to against his lips. "I always have." She closed her large eyes and pressed her small, plump mouth to his. He melted into her kiss immediately, taking in a sharp breath in the process. His eyes closed tightly, pushing into her further to explore the tastes of her warm mouth. Her tongue slid across his, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"Hisa—" Byakuya stopped himself short before making the same mistake twice. "Mariko. Yoshitsune or Kuchiki… It does not matter to me what your name is, in this life or the one before." He tipped her head up by the chin and looked deep into the pools of clear blue water. "I love you. _You_. My wife. My love. Always.

"I realize now I hadn't directly told you before, and for that I apolog—" he was cut off when Mariko forcefully pulled his head down and his lips crashed onto hers.

"I said, no more apologies," the petite woman grinned. Byakuya found himself returning a grin, and no more words were spoken. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her so close there was no air between them. His head dipped far down to match her height, ready to capture her lips with his own. She threw her arms over his shoulders, grasping them tightly.

Tongues clashed in firm, velvet strokes until their breathing grew ragged and shallow. Byakuya's hands moved lower down her back to her hips, picking her up so she could move up higher. She immediately wrapped her legs around him when she felt her feet leave the ground. Her breasts pressed against the planes of his chest as hand moved against the back of her neck and fingers laced through her short white locks.

A feral growl sounded from the back of Mariko's throat, prompting Byakuya to take a dominant approach and pinned her against a wall. He half expected her to be surprised by his sudden movement, but instead she let out a small gasp and ground her denim jean hips against him.

"I've missed you," she heavily breathed, finding his weak spot in the process. She kissed and teased his neck right behind his earlobe, relishing the fact that she knew it would make his knees tremble. He responded to her touch right on queue when her tongue flicked across his skin. A low groan hummed near her ear and she couldn't stop a grin from spreading.

"You haven't an inkling as to how much I've missed you," his deep voice rumbled. Mariko's smile widened and she pulled back with a conniving look on her face.

"Show me," she tempted. Byakuya's eyes widened for a moment before returning to their usual hooded state. A faint, cocky grin tipped at the corner of his mouth.

"Is that a proposition?" The grey storm was building in his eyes, the sure sign that his passion was just as strong as it had been all those years ago.

Mariko let her head drop so her forehead was pressed against his. Her sky blue eyes glossed with a sensual blaze. "Show me," she repeated in a sultry tone, nudging the sharp tip of his nose with the round bulb of her own. His eyes flashed once more before he took her soaring to heights she never knew she could reach.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

I used the right hand preference to place the wedding bands due to historical research. In some cultures the ring is worn on the right hand, since the right hand is considered more significant and stronger than the left. I'm not sure if this is the case for earlier Japan (women would paint their teeth black, ew!), but I thought it was fitting for these characters.

Thanks to Jaso again for proof-reading :-)


	19. Drowning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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It was dark—much too dark to see anything except her hands in front of her. Mariko tried to look around, but she could see nothing past the expanding black. Her simple spring dress was white and as she walked through the empty void, her feet and dress cascaded ripples of light as if she was strolling across water.

But there was still nothing.

Hours passed, maybe more, she finally found a speck of light radiating from a non-visible path. She ran to it, falling footsteps remained flat, muted sounds as her feet pounded against the nothingness. The light was growing brighter as she approached, even though it was just a small hole in the black ground. She crouched down, placing an eye over the path of the light to try and get a glimpse of anything. As she brought her face closer to the beam, it expanded to reveal a mirror.

Blinking her large clear blue eyes, she stared back at the reflection and placed her hand to the surface, the same ripples emitting from the slightest touch. The reflection was her and yet it was not at the same time. She saw Byakuya and Rukia walk up behind the doppelganger and her head whipped around to find them, but there was nothing except the empty black. She looked back at her other self and felt a sick feeling drop in her stomach. The imposter smiled sweetly before turning her back to Mariko's kin and striking them down with one blow. Blood scattered across the invisible glass that separated the worlds with a revolting splat. When her other self looked back, her eyes were as black as the void that surrounded her. And yet she was still smiling.

She felt hot tears fall down and hit the ground, but her own throat couldn't make a sound. Her vocal chords went raw from screaming violently but no one was around to hear, so it made no noise. Her fists became bruised from slamming into the dimly lit ground, but the barrier still wouldn't crack.

Suddenly her mouth was filling up with a liquid so thick and heavy she couldn't escape it. She looked down into her sadistic grinning reflection with shaken, scared eyes. Her reflection only waved a flashed a sharp, toothy smile. Then the world around the imposter opened and Mariko saw that she was not the one looking down—she was the one looking up. She was drowning, kicking up to the surface for survival. Her arms were heavy and her feet stopped responding. She choked back the dense black water as she fell further and further away from the light.

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Mariko sat up with a start, her body covered with a layer of sweat. A strong arm prevented her from getting too far up though, strung across her waist with a hand going up her thin cotton night shirt. She glanced over at the man who held her so close. Byakuya was sleeping soundly, his long black inky hair spread across the stark white-checkered pattern on the pillows. The moon shone through the peek of light from heavy maroon curtains that covered the sliding glass door to her balcony.

A tremble coursed through her hand as she reached for him, gently pushing some of his bangs away from his face. She swallowed the lump in her throat and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. Silently, she slipped out of his grasp and made her way to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the sink, she leaned against the countertop with her head in her hands, resisting the waves of nausea that passed through her body. She looked up to see her reflection as normal, but her mind flashed to the disfigured version of herself from the dream. She gagged at the image, closing her eyes so tight they began to water. Shaking, she slowly let herself fall to the floor with her back against the wall behind her.

The hollow inside was winning.

It was a jarring feeling not being able to do a thing about it. She'd always had the ability to steer dreams in the direction she wanted, even when it came to reliving a horrid memory from the past. She could easily pull herself out of any nightmare and into a reminiscence scene, walking the gardens of Kuchiki Manor. When she would have recurring dreams about her foster father finding his way to her bedroom clad in pink and yellow, she always found a way out. She would hide or fight back, do anything to prevent reliving the molestation. It worked then, but not anymore—her control for lucid dreams was slipping away. Slowly, the hollow was absorbing a bit more of her each day and she was losing the battle.

Mariko suppressed the urge to cry, but a small sob escaped her lips nonetheless. She shook her head and kept telling herself that crying does no good. This was her fate, she had accepted that, and she wasn't going to waste anymore time worrying about what could happen next. She had to be strong, or at least appear that she was in control. But there was no denying it: the hollow was growing more powerful than her.

The sound of a single muffled cry rustled Byakuya out of sleep. He inhaled sharply as the noise woke him, slightly lifting his head off the soft down pillow. He felt around in the warm empty space next to him, frowning when he couldn't find the woman he had been holding on to dear life to for the past several hours. Blinking his grey eyes out of sleep, he sat up and looked around the room to find a crack of yellow light beaming from underneath the closed bathroom door.

Sheets slid off his skin as a ribbon catches gravity and he moved towards the narrow door. Taking in a breath, he rapped the back of his middle knuckle against the hollow wood. "Mariko?" he called through the door.

A small brass click came from the knob and Mariko barely pushed the door open. Byakuya brought his gaze down to find her sitting on the cold tile floor with her knees against her chest, leaning with her back against the wall. Her thin, light blue shirt stuck to her skin in odd places and a film of sweat was fresh on her forehead. He felt his frown soften into an expression of disappointment and crouched down to her level.

The white haired woman looked up at him with scared eyes, red from stress at the edges and dark circles surfacing. She expected him to say something obvious or insist that she see a doctor, but instead, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead to check her temperature.

"You are cold," he said with concern.

"It's just sweat," she tried to counter.

Byakuya lifted his hooded eyes to her with an unbelieving blank stare. "You're cold," he repeated. He pressed down against cotton boxers on his thighs to stand himself up and walked over to the clawfoot tub, immediately running hot water into the vintage bath. Periodically, he tested the water with his wrist, adjusting the temperature until he found it satisfactory. He grabbed the plug that hung by the steel-balled chain near the exposed piping and pressed it into the drain.

"Come on," he whispered, bringing an arm underneath Mariko's shoulders to help her to her feet.

"What are you doing?" She was half annoyed with his sudden charge over the situation.

He kept his attention on her, tugging up her shirt up and over her head. "A hot bath will make you feel better."

Mariko immediately felt the urge to argue, but his fingers slipped in the elastic band of her white and blue polka dot panties to pull them down and her head quickly rejected the idea. It wasn't often that a man would show a romantic gesture like this.

She steadied her balance by placing a hand on his muscular shoulder, stepping out from the undergarment one leg at a time. He teasingly kissed her hip on his way back up. Byakuya's storm grey eyes flashed at her once he was at eye level, then his arms scooped her up and carried her small body the few feet to the antique tub. It was a deep washbasin, perfect to simulate a spa day at the hot springs. When her body was immersed in the steaming water, she instantly felt her muscles begin to relax.

Byakuya sat on the edge of the tub, finding a large sponge hanging near the shower hose, and dipped the sponge into the water with her. Drops falling from the sponge into the filled basin echoed across the tile of the room. Mariko leaned forward and closed her eyes with content when the hot water dripped across her back. As the water fell, his fingers lazily traced the large tattoo on her back.

"It boggles the mind," he suddenly commented.

"Hmm?" Mariko sounded out.

"How your memories stayed with you through your lifetimes."

The tattoo artist's visualization of the Hakuteiken form blended and twisted in elegant lines and shades across her back. Small shades of pink and lavender representing petals fallen from the center cherry blossom tree danced across in a pattern over her skin. Thin branches stretched out to the sides in an intricate yet simplified weave. Amazing detail was put into the masterpiece, even down to the faint halo that arced across the center, connecting the two wing-shaped wisps of clouds.

"May I ask you a question without appearing judgmental?" he seemed hesitant.

Mariko tilted her head over her shoulder to look at him. "Sure," she responded confidently.

"Your tattoo. Why would you subject yourself to the pain of having needles prick your skin over and over again? You have been through so much in your life—in two lifetimes—I am simply unclear as to why you would willingly submit yourself to such pain." His eyes genuinely seemed concerned.

Mariko shrugged nonchalantly. "The prick of a tattoo needle doesn't compare to the scars left on a soul. To me, it was letting my old self go; making a choice that was best for me. Each session brought closure to my problems."

She chuckled, "Best money I ever spent on a shrink."

Byakuya nodded with a faint smile, understanding where she was coming from. His eyes drifted back to the mural on her back with pride. Like a fellow warrior, she wore her battle wounds with honor. Although her marks took the form of a picturesque drawing, it was a scar nevertheless. Every drop of ink embedded into her skin showed her strength to overcome the hurdles in her life: from her adoption, to her ex-husband, and living with a chronic disease. By turning those trials and tribulations into piece of beautiful artwork, it helped her to rise above those fears and insecurities.

"Hey," Mariko suddenly spoke up. Byakuya turned his face towards her and found her facing him from the side. "Thank you," she paused, "for this. For all of this. I don't know what else I can do to—" She was quickly silenced by his mouth pressing against hers.

"Like you put so adamantly before," he said against her lips, "no more apologies. The same can be applied to words of thanks, as well."

Mariko felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and leaned into him for more. Her petite fingers tangled in his long strands of black hair at the base of his neck. She pressed against him with a trusting force, pulling his face towards her. She could taste his musk and smell the floral oak of his skin. Water trickled down his bare back from her hands.

With a quick plan in mind, she smiled against his lips and tugged at his shoulders, forcing him to lose his balance on the edge of the tub. Byakuya fell on his side into the water, cursing as his clothing was immediately soaked. The tub's displaced contents began to spill out onto the floor, flowing over the edge of basin now that there were two people taking up space. He grumbled at the predicament, but Mariko strung an arm around his neck and shoulders to keep him there.

"If you wanted company, all you had to do was ask," Byakuya cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I don't have to ask," she widely grinned, "I can just take." She brought her free hand up to his face, tracing the contours of his jaw. "I've got you now, Byakuya. You're mine."

His rarely seen smile surfaced right before he completely captured her lips.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

So...I hope you enjoyed that steamy scene. I have to admit that I was very inspired by _The Fountain_ while writing this, both the film and the soundtrack.

JasoTheArtisan rocks for proof-reading. Go give him cookies (aka reviews).


	20. Death is the Road to Awe 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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True to her word, Mariko found time to spend with her sister and husband. Throughout the next week, she made a point to keep her life as normal as possible. She went to work, handled her patients with nurturing and professional ease, giggled like a school girl when it was just Rukia and her, and spent as much time as she could with Byakuya between the sheets. A few dinner parties she organized did not go as planned, however, when it came to placing Byakuya and Ichigo in the same room. Something always ended up broken, and it was usually something Rukia had tossed at Ichigo's head to quiet his loud mouth. On the other hand, it was an amusing spectacle to watch the three of them bicker. They acted like any normal family with a love-hate relationship.

Normal. Now that was a funny word to her.

She'd never had normality in her life, short of living on her own once she moved to Karakura. That even fizzled down into this half-life between worlds. Her sister was a Shinigami, once sentenced for execution but was able to overcome the dire circumstances. The young warrior spent her days with a part Shinigami, part Hollow and part mortal boy who had saved Soul Society and the real world on more than one occasion. Moreover there was her lover, a spirit over 200 years old, a respected captain and the leader of once of the most noble clans in Sereitei. At least to her, this was as normal as it would ever get.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Mariko was holding on to as many happy memories as she could for limited time she had left, because when she closed her eyes, her world was an entirely different story. Her dreams were growing more frightening and her control was slipping even further. The imposter's features became twisted and monstrous until she could barely recognize it as human. Each nightmare ended the same: her loved ones were dead and it was her hand that dealt the final blow. When she would wake from the horrid visions, she felt as if her soul would break, but the only thing she could do was to snuggle up close to Byakuya and hold him as tightly as possible.

Sighing, Mariko buried her face in the crook of Byakuya's neck. He pulled his arms around her, stroking her back until she relaxed from the chills of the nightmare. His calm, grey storm peered at her under half-lidded eyes.

"I want to feel the real you," she suddenly spoke up.

"I am not sure I follow," Byakuya titled his head with a slight confusion.

"I want to feel you. _You_, not your gigai. How it was the first time when I came back." Mariko placed a hand on his heart. How could she forget that feeling? His spirit energy surged through her that first night, touching the tips of her own muted reiatsu. It was unlike anything she had experienced. She wanted to feel that exhilaration at least once more before her clock ran out.

Byakuya thought for a moment then nodded. "I understand," was all he said. He briefly left the bed, finding the soul candy dispenser in his slacks pocket. With a quick flick, he popped a round green piece into his mouth, immediately separating his spirit from the human gigai.

"Leave us," he said to the gigai. The artificial soul in the form of Byakuya's body bowed respectfully and left the room with haste.

The mental picture of the possibility of having two Byakuya's in her bedroom should have distracted Mariko, but all she could look at was the real one standing in front of her. She hadn't seen him in his full uniform since that day they spent at Urahara's shop discussing the specifics of her disease. But she could never forget what it felt like to be around his raw spiritual presence. It was intoxicating to say the least.

He was exactly as she remembered him from her past life. The majestic stance he took covered up the hotheaded, passionate young man that flickered in the typhoon in his eyes. It wasn't that his attitude didn't follow through in a gigai, it was just much more commanding when he was in his natural form.

The intensity of their love-making was enhanced as well. Using light waves of his reiatsu, he touched her in ways only imaginable. It was on a level far past the physical realm, mimicking the euphoria of an orgasmic high. In that moment, Mariko grabbed out for him, holding him as close as she could, and tangled her fingers in his midnight black locks with a strong grip. A tug sent him hurdling over the edge and they cried out in unison.

She never told him, but she watched him sleep in the aftermath, sometimes. She wasn't getting much rest anyway due to the nightmares, so seeing his regal face slumber peacefully was the next best thing to relaxation.

That night in his Shinigami form, as he lay between her sheets, she tucked his long hair away from his face to get one last look. His spiritual pressure was calm and hummed against her fingertips. She placed a gentle kiss to his forehead sending a prayer of thanks his way. Then she silently slipped out from the room and stepped into the pounding rain.

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A tiny hand tapped Urahara on the back of his shoulder. He grumbled, and clumsily turned over to see who it was, Yoruichi making a sound of disapproval in the process as she lost her warm spot against his chest.

"Urahara-san," the little girl whispered to her caretaker. She looked at him with concerned eyes between her long, dark bangs.

"Ururu?" Urahara sat up and rubbed his eyes out of sleep. "What's the matter?"

"Akon-san is on the line. He says that it's urgent." The timid child spoke with a spark of hope.

"Thank you," he nodded. He stood up, aching joints protesting the sudden change in position. He stumbled around in the darkness of his quarters, finding his robe by memory alone. He heard a rustle from the bed and the sound of a woman lightly cursing when she bumped into a low-lying table.

"Go back to sleep."

"Like hell," Yoruichi shot back. "Whatever Akon has found to get you out from our bed at four in the morning better be important." The dark-skinned woman approached her lover and her golden eyes glinted in the crack of light through the sliding doors.

"We're in this together, right?" A feline grin spread across her face.

Urahara lightly chuckled. "Right," he smiled and leaned down, catching her mouth with a quick, tender kiss. She pressed right back before pulling away and giving him a short wink. He watched her hips sway as she led the way to his laboratory.

On the large monitor, Akon stood stoic as usual. Vials bubbled behind him on a table and several assistants were clacking away at computer keyboards.

"You're looking pleased, Akon," Urahara spoke to the man on the screen. Yoruichi arched a dark purple eyebrow—how could he tell a difference?

"Quite," the horned man responded. "Although our team has not found a cure for Yoshitsune's Hollow infection, we have compounded an elixir that can delay the process. This will give us the opportunity to further examine the subject's condition and time to develop a cure. I'm transmitting the ingredients and process to you now."

A machine on the opposite side of Urahara's laboratory began to make whirling noises as a sheet began to print out. Ripping paper seemed to echo in the room as Yoruichi tore the finished document from the machine.

"This is good," Urahara nodded, tapping a finger on the long document. "Some of these ingredients are rare, but it's a good thing unusual herbs are my specialty. I should have the potion prepped in an hour or less."

"Most excellent," Akon mused aloud. He stood at attention, postponing delivery of his next tidbit of information. "I must insist that you start the process at once."

"I plan to." The shopkeeper cocked his head and looked through the monitor towards his former assistant. "What is it you're not saying?"

Akon took in a breath before continuing the dreaded process. "Although this is an incredible discovery, I fear you must move quickly. All indications point to Yoshitsune's spirit fading fast. Also, I am concerned with what we would have on our hands if she goes through the transformation."

"How bad are we talking?"

"Arrancar class, no doubt, maybe even Espada level. The Hollow won't be as refined as those enhanced by the Hougyoku, but it will be powerful. It is that unique combination of spiritual powers that the subject posses that makes this plausible. If that happens, you are aware of the only solution."

"I know," Urahara ran a heavy hand through his dark blonde locks. "I was just hoping it wouldn't get to that point."

"Then I advise you work fast," Akon stated firmly. "You may not even have an hour."

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Byakuya cracked open a tired grey eye, finding himself—once again—alone in bed. He sat up quickly, looking around the room for a sign of her. The sheets on her side of the bed had been disheveled, but at least the mattress retained some warmth. No lights were on in the neighboring bathroom or hallway, but the yukata robe she kept near a chair was missing. He shot out of bed, promptly pulling his hakama pants on and headed for the balcony first. If she wasn't there, he would have to look elsewhere. Far below the terrace, a white figure caught his eye, standing on the sidewalk with arms stretched out to feel the falling rain splash against her skin.

He frowned and quickly dressed, ignoring his captain's haori and kenseikan. He flash-stepped as rapidly as he could to get down to street level. "Are you insane?" he cried out over the oncoming thunder.

Mariko opened her eyes and looked at him with a completely serene expression. "No," she calmly replied. She glanced up into the dark night sky, her clear blue eyes reflecting lightning from a distance. Her lavender robe clung to her body, scarcely covering flesh, while her bare feet were planted on the concrete ground.

"I just want to feel the rain."

"You are going to catch a cold," he insisted. He reached his hand out for her to take it, but she only smiled and kept her face to the sky.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Stay here with me." She took his outstretched hand in hers and let it relax, hanging between the two of them.

While she kept her gaze on the sky, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Over that week he had learned to sense her reiraku the way Rukia could, and he could see her soul thread becoming unstable as time passed. At this moment, it fluctuated constantly from solid to completely transparent. The lilac beams surrounding her shone as brightly as a mirror reflecting light.

"I know why I was brought back," she suddenly said when her spiritual wave reached an apex.

"When I was recovering my memories, a spirit came to me—a Goddess I think. She told me that she brought me back." Mariko brought her face down from the sky to peer at Byakuya with her crystalline blue orbs.

"I was so…mad at her," she picked up the corner of her mouth in a faint smile. "It wasn't fair. To you, to Rukia…or to me. Why bring someone back when their fate was so grim?"

Mariko sighed, interlacing her fingers with Byakuya's slender hand. "She told me she wouldn't have brought me back unless I had wanted it, too. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what that was.

"But it was you." She smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. "You and Rukia. My family.

"I only had two regrets in my past life: never getting to know my sister and letting you think that I didn't love you. Rukia may have been the key to my memories, but it was you that held me together." The woman swallowed and took in shallow breath.

"I did love you, Byakuya. And I do now." Her free hand reached up and pulled his face gently towards hers. She pressed her plump lips to his, letting the falling rain trickle down like they were drinking wine. Byakuya closed his eyes tightly, hoping this moment would never end.

All too soon, Mariko pulled away with her breathing becoming more uneven with every intake. "I always will," she whispered against his lips. "Remember that."

With a sharp breath and wide eyes, a ghost image of Mariko stayed upright while her mortal body crumbled to the ground. Her soul kept her hands locked with Byakuya's as long as possible, holding on to the moment. Her smiling face began to tear up, but she didn't break their gaze.

"It's time," her soul spoke.

Byakuya shook his head slowly. "I just found you," he protested. A lump began to form in his throat, forcing the corners of his stormy grey eyes water.

"I'm finished," she placed a small hand on the hollow of his cheek. "It's time."

A crack echoed between Byakuya's ears and his eyes went wide as her Chain of Fate snapped off the slumped body on the sidewalk. He couldn't hold back a gasp when the chain forged crooked, sharp teeth and began to eat itself link by link. Without hesitation, he unsheathed Senbonzakura and pointed it at Mariko's heart.

"Don't," she said forcefully. Her words had begun to strain and a wheeze hitched in her tone. The pain from the gnashing teeth was agonizing, but she needed him to know.

"Don't do it. I won't be the reason for the downfall of the Kuchiki Clan."

"I do not care about them," he argued.

"Yes, you do. You've done enough for me, Byakuya. Don't throw your life away."

"I do not know how else to save you." Emotions rushed through his body, forcing his hand to quiver at the hilt of his zanpaktou.

"Akon had a theory," Mariko took a step back away from Senbonzakura. She quickly glanced over to see the snarling teeth rapidly making their way up the chain that connected to a round plate on her chest. "Cut through the rest of my Soul Chain and Soul Sleep."

"What?" he choked. This was an impossible task she should have never asked for.

"It won't save me, but it will stop the Hollow transformation," she spoke fast now and her blue eyes were growing wide as the jaws moved closer to the breastplate.

"You cannot ask that of me," his eyes narrowed and the ghostly vision of his lover was becoming hazy through the water pricking the edges.

"Byakuya, please," Mariko practically ordered. "I'm not afraid of true death, only what I'll become if this thing takes me. I don't want to hurt you."

Forcing back tears and the lump in his throat, Byakuya swallowed and regretfully nodded. The snapping, jagged teeth on her Soul Chain were making their way dangerously close to her center—he would only have one shot at this. He reeled back Senbonzakura and Mariko dropped her head down, preparing for the deadly blow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and sliced his zanpaktou through the air. Senbonzakura cried out in a heartbreaking sword hum that only he could hear, tearing straight through his soul.

In a sudden jolt, time seemed to come to a halt and Mariko's arm shot up, catching the powerful katana blade with her bare hand. Byakuya's breath caught in his throat as the white-haired woman raised her face to his. Her large eyes opened, and a dark liquid began to seep into the whites of her eyes. Her irises changed color—one now blue and one violet—and the roots of her hair began to grow out in midnight black. One massive shockwave of lilac-colored reiatsu emitted from the figure, immediately pushing Byakuya away from her. He struggled to maintain his balance, skidding across the bits of gravel on the asphalt road in woven reed sandals.

He looked up in horror at the first thing that emerged from clearing smoke. Jagged white wings nearly twelve feet in wingspan spread across the figure's back with an asymmetric arc connecting the two pieces. Connected to the crude imitation of his final bankai step Shuukei Hakuteiken was the small body of a woman clad in a tattered white dress.

The front fabric crisscrossed across her breasts, revealing a tight stomach and Hollow's hole through her lower abdomen. Rich purple lines mimicking tribal tattoos ran down each side of her torso, through to the high slit from her skirt. Her head lifted from the ground, dark black roots fading into white tips for hair. Her eyes were sunken and empty as the loneliest hole in existence. A skull mask wrapped around her face right down the middle, covering one of the eye sockets as it glowed bright violet from the empty opening.

The distorted Hollow cracked a wide, sharp grin, looking directly at him.

"Hello, lover."

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

Don't hate me. It's not over yet! :-D

JasoTheArtisan keeps saying he is one smexy beast. Since he provides good proof-reading feedback, I guess he is. :-P

More _Fountain_ references for this chapter title. I love the soundtrack.


	21. Death is the Road to Awe 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Monstrous white jaws opened right in front of her and all Rukia did was smirk. This was a simple-minded Hollow and could do down easily. She pressed her foot down, launching herself off the telephone pole and pulled her zanpaktou out from its sheath. One clean slice and the spider-shaped Hollow immediately lost an arm. It reeled back, its metallic scream echoed and its remaining legs writhed from the sudden pain. Rukia only lightly scoffed at the Hollow's predictable nature, turning herself midair to deliver the final blow. Her katana swung in a wide arc over her head to gain momentum.

All of a sudden, her violet eyes went wide and her skin turned ghostly pale. Sode no Shirayuki's scream echoed through her mind as she saw the vision play out. Rukia began shaking uncontrollably as the arachnid Hollow closed the space between them.

"Getsuga Tenshou!"

A black arc of spiritual power ripped through the air, splitting the Hollow down its center. Cracks formed on the skeletal mask from the bottom before breaking open. The Hollow's purified body dissipated immediately.

"Rukia!" Ichigo quickly jumped up to her level with a burst of shunpo. "What the hell happened? You just froze!"

He shut his mouth when he saw the look on her face. Her normally vibrant eyes were glazed over in a trance, trembling as they lost focus on this reality. "Rukia?" Ichigo said firmly, grasping her shoulders.

"Rukia?! What's wrong? What happened?" He shook her until her mouth parted to speak.

"Too late," she whispered. "We were too late."

"What are you talking abou—" Ichigo's voice cut out when he was suddenly hit with a shockwave of reiatsu so massive it threatened to weaken his knees. His breathing went heavy as the bands of spiritual power hammered his body over and over.

This wasn't Shinigami. This wasn't Hollow or even Arrancar.

This was something else.

'_Someone new to play with, King,'_ the Hollow inside Ichigo cackled.

'_You stay out of this,'_ he hissed back.

"Ichigo?" Rukia's voice sounded far away and weak. Her eyes slowly drifted back into focus, promptly filling with tears. Her bottom lip began to quiver.

"The Hollow won."

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Cursing under his breath, Byakuya picked himself up to take a battle stance. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

"Tch, I thought that bitch would never die," the Hollow figure scoffed. It was disturbing to watch the face of his wife take on the horrific form. "Do you have any fucking clue how long I've been stuck in that goddamned body?"

"I do not need to hear your petty words, Hollow." Byakuya sneered and kept a hand on the hilt of his zanpaktou.

The female Hollow let out a low whistle. "Damn, Bya-kun, you really _are_ an arrogant prick."

"How dare you address me with such a lowly attitude," the noble's grey eyes narrowed into slits. His grip around Senbonzakura tightened until his knuckles turned white. She called out to him to be unsheathed but he kept her sealed. "We are _not_ comrades. How is it that you know my name?"

"I know everything about you, darling." The creature eyed him up and down, taking her time to linger over certain parts of his body. "And I do mean _everything_."

Byakuya broke eye contact with her, turning his head to the side in disgust. The parasitic Hollow had imprinted to Mariko's spirit, taking on her physical likeness and memories. As the ninth Espada, Aaroniero Arruruerie, had demonstrated in his battle against Rukia, this being was prepared to use every possible memory it had stolen to bait him into a trap. It was a gross invasion of his privacy.

"You do not have the right, Hollow."

The figure threw her head back with a laugh. Half of her mouth was visible from the skull mask and filled with razor-sharp teeth. "Hollow?" she said between chuckles. "What makes you think I'm a mere Hollow?"

The metallic ripping sound that was distinctly sonído filled Byakuya's ears as the woman transported herself within a few feet from where he was standing. Her grin widened when she saw the shock written across Byakuya's face.

"It's taken twenty years, but I'm not a simple Hollow anymore."

A solid foot instantly connected to Byakuya's chest, throwing him back a few yards. He coughed and shook his head out of a trance. In the face of his wife, he had let his guard down and given an opportunity for the monster to attack. But it seemed this thing didn't want to kill him just yet—she was only toying with him.

"I was a lowly Gillian when I found her," the Hollow started, taking slow steps forward. "Just a little girl, crying about some crap having to do with her dad. Pathetic, really. But her blood smelled so good I just _had_ to have a taste.

"Imagine my surprise when I got stuck inside that moral shell. Ironic—really—when my trap turned into a road to evolution. So I ate…and ate…and gorged myself on her soul."

Byakuya got to his feet and unsheathed his zanpaktou. He pointed it out towards the approaching woman with a steady hand. His former wife's blue and black eye smirked at him.

"I guess I have that bitch to thank for helping me turn into a Vasto Lorde. But do you wanna know the real kicker, Bya-kun?" The tearing sound of sonído cut through thunder as she appeared just inches from the side of his face. Her sunken eyes drifted to his cold gaze with a devious cringe.

"You're the one who set me free," she grinned. "Being around your power is what killed her in the end."

The mask covered side of the Vasto Lorde's face pointed towards Byakuya, and the violet eye socket began to glow even brighter. A beam formed and a powerful lilac tinted cero burst through. In that instant, Byakuya used the fastest shunpo he knew to get away from the blast, leaving an afterimage of himself in the wake. As the light dissipated, the Vasto Lorde let out a pout.

"Aw, I missed you?" She jutted her bottom lip out, and then suddenly curled up into a twisted smile. "Well, at least I got somebody."

Something wet and warm hit Byakuya's face, so he brought a hand up to wipe it off. He pulled his fingers away from his cheek, clad with dark blood. He turned to his side and his eyes went wide.

"Rukia!"

His sister's name tore out from his lips with more ferocity than he ever thought possible. The petite Shinigami gasped and clutched her shoulder, pressing down hard against the gaping hole. Her tiny, pale hand was quickly becoming painted with the sticky red liquid. Her breathing was ragged and she coughed, a trickle of blood seeping out from the corner of her mouth. A blur of orange hair was quickly by her side and swept an arm around her crumbling frame.

"I'm going to kill that _thing_," Ichigo growled, his face flushing with anger. He motioned to press forward, but Rukia reached up and caught his robes by the collar.

"Don't," she said unevenly. "She's not dead yet."

"What do you mean?" Byakuya spoke firmly.

"Mariko…she's not dead yet. I can feel her." Rukia locked her eyes with her brother. "Save her. I know you can, Nii-sama."

Byakuya thinned his lips, but nodded sharply. He left Rukia in the care of Ichigo, determined to set things right. If it was true, his power had overwhelmed Mariko's fragile body, ultimately weakening her physical state. If he was the one who killed her in the end then he was the one who would bring her back.

"Are you finally ready for me, Bya-kun?" the Vasto Lorde taunted.

She started laughing and advanced her steps. Byakuya flash-stepped to meet her with Senbonzakura drawn at the defense and his other hand balled with a blue orb. The hollow smoothly evaded the kidou strike and took an offensive route. She spun and kicked in the air, effectively using a graceful form of martial arts to move her lithe body. Byakuya cast spell after spell, attempting to incapacitate the Hollow and only using his sword to block kicks.

"Bakudo number Sixty-One: Rikujokoro!" he chanted.

Six thin, wide rods of light formed and shot towards the Hollow's midsection. The Vasto Lorde flashed a cocky grin before her face was hidden under a cocoon of white. The beams of light collided with the protective shell and burst apart.

Byakuya's brows furrowed. It seemed that her massive wings served a purpose other than making a mockery of his Bankai. They could move quickly and act as a barrier for protection.

"Your pesky Demon Arts won't work on me." Her wings stretched out and pumped once, sending a wave of reiatsu towards him. "Stop retreating and let's really fight! You haven't even released your zanpaktou yet!"

"I will not fight you," he took a strong stance.

"Then I'll just kill you," she smirked. "That'll slap that arrogant look off your pretty face."

"_You_ are the arrogant one, Hollow."

"Stop calling me 'Hollow,' " her grin dropped. "I'm better than those weaklings."

"Better?" Byakuya arched a brow. "You don't even have a zanpaktou."

"Heh," she scoffed, "whoever said I use one?"

Byakuya felt his eyes narrow with discomfort. All of the Arrancar they had faced in the Winter War were able to manifest swords similar to a Shinigami's zanpaktou. The released weapon morphed the being into a shred of their previous Hollow form, enhancing their powers. But this one was different. It spent years squatting inside a human form, absorbing her soul and the aura left over from Rukia and himself. Somehow it had evolved, taking on its own form in a twisted homage to its creator.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she teased, winking her visible eye. The Vasto Lorde reached up behind her head and grabbed on to the arc that connected her wings.

"Separate, _Anillo del Hielo_."

The arc cracked and beams of light burst behind her head, silhouetting the woman into an ironic form of an angel. As she pulled, the arc formed into a full circle, sparkling with white and lilac jagged edges. She twirled the ring around her wrist before cupping the inside of it with an open palm. She took a wider stance, bringing her other hand to the inner circle to support its frame.

"Do you see now?" The corner of her mouth perked up, revealing her sharp fangs. "I have no use for a simple zanpaktou."

She moved her arm, spinning the ring around a wrist. "_Huelga_," she chanted, releasing the circle. It launched forward but stopped short when she caught the edge of it with her hand. A ghost image of the ring hurtled towards Byakuya and he quickly dodged. The edge of his robes got caught in its wake, promptly turning into ice. Frozen shards began to creep up the clothing, so he brought Senbonzakura down and sliced part of his garment off.

"That was just a warning," the Vasto Lorde turned her nose up.

The next thing Byakuya saw was the circular blade heading towards one of his limbs. He countered, pushing back against surprisingly strong ring. Ice particles shattered off the ring, melting upon contact with the repressed reiatsu seeping out from his sword. Another strike rapidly followed as the Hollow side-stepped and swung the blade ring up from the ground. They fought in a deadlock of her strikes and his counters, and the creature was becoming noticeably more irritated the further this carried out.

"Release your zanpaktou!"

"I refuse."

"Fine!" she shouted. "If you won't fight me on your will alone, then I'll just have to _make_ you." The monster shifted her stance and fired another _Huelga_ towards the fallen body of Rukia.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura!" Byakuya cried out, promptly pointing his hilt where Rukia and Ichigo were resting. A multitude of pink blades swung into action, racing to protect his sister.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

Sorry this chapter came a little late...you can blame it on my parents coming into town to visit.  
Anyway, the battle will continue soon since this was posted later than I intended. :-D

Thanks again to smexy beast JasoTheArtisan for proof-reading.

Glossary of Terms:_  
Anillo del Hielo_ = Ring of Ice  
_Huelga_ = Strike


	22. Death is the Road to Awe 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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"Getsuga Tenshou!" Ichigo shielded Rukia's body and swung out his cleaver-shaped black sword, nullifying the ice ring upon contact. He held her close, picking her damaged form up with both arms and shot Byakuya a look of respect.

"Thanks Byakuya, but I can take care of Rukia myself. You just try to save Mariko."

"Mariko?" the Hollow choked. "Is that why you won't fight me, Bya-kun? That human's nothing but a fly buzzing in my ear. With one snap, I can cut her wings clean off." The warped face of Mariko cackled, teasingly bringing a hand up to snap her fingers. Her laughter was cut short as her index and middle fingers were sliced off. Pink shards of Senbonzakura danced in front of her.

"Fuck," she cursed under her breath. She wiggled the bleeding stubs and a new set of fingers instantly regenerated. "No more games, eh Bya-kun?"

"No more games." Byakuya moved his hands and hilt in an elaborate pattern, dictating the direction of the pink blades. They instantly responded, hurtling towards the twisted doppelganger of Mariko. The woman rolled her eyes and her massive wings closed around her body, shielding it from the slicing blades. Senbonzakura swirled in a frenzy trying to find an opening to the protective cocoon, but it was useless. The hierro of her wings was strong and the creature's regeneration skills were fast—the miniscule blades from his shikai had no effect.

Byakuya called Senbonzakura back to her hilt and reformed his sword with a frown. The top of the Hollow's wings separated, revealing the warped, toothy smile from the visible side of the creature's face. Her tongue ran over an exposed fang with a sneer.

"If you wanted to penetrate me all you had to do was ask."

With a burst of sonído, she rushed forward, appearing a few feet in front of him with her blade ring spinning wildly. Byakuya shook his head out of her last comment, quick to flash-step and left an afterimage. What seemed like a showy movement on her part ended up being a carefully calculated plan. She caught up with him as his body shifted into the new position with a cero charged in her glowing, empty socket. The violet beam shot off, and this time Byakuya couldn't dodge fast enough.

A sudden jolt of pain exploded down his arm as the blast sliced through part of his bicep. He kept his feet steady, careful not to show how much the shot actually hurt. His mind was swimming with multiple scenarios, but none on how to incapacitate the Vasto Lorde without killing her. His shikai couldn't keep up with her movements in his current state. With a heavy heart, he placed the zanpaktou parallel to his body and released it as it melted into the ground.

"Bankai. Senkei Senbonzakura Kageyoshi." Rows of pink swords erupted around them, closing the two warriors in a cage. Wasting no time, Byakuya grabbed one of the katana and blocked an oncoming attack.

"So predictable, darling," the Vasto Lorde smirked, bringing her large, circular blade in a wide arc over her head. It crashed down against the vibrant magenta of his sword with more strength than he had expected. The force from her ring fell like a lead weight, contrary to its thin and delicate shape. Byakuya mustered up additional strength and pushed back.

The Hollow kicked off his shoulder to gain momentum, tumbling in the air with the grace of a circus performer. The ring twirled around her wrist, accelerating as she repositioned herself for another attack. She fired a _Huelga_ in midair with more power than her previous shots. Byakuya evaded the initial strike, but was caught off guard when the ring of ice bounced off the ground and changed direction.

His grey eyes went wide as the ice clamped onto the edge of his hair. It rapidly multiplied to attach itself to his head. With a sudden slice, he cut off a chunk of his midnight locks before the shards could touch his skin.

"You're not attacking me, Bya-kun," the woman whined. "This isn't fun anymore."

"I thought you said no more games," Byakuya replied coolly. "And yet you insist on baiting."

"Heh, I just like to play with my food."

Her sonído was fast, nearly as fast as Yoruichi's shunpo. She bounced and flipped across the ground, transporting her body with each change in direction. Then, out of the blue her foot connected with Byakuya's jaw, sending his head back. She pushed up against the ground in a handstand, launching her body in the air as her circular ice blade spun around her wrist. With a quick burst of sonído, she as upright again with the spinning ring glowing bright purple. It was aimed right for his neck.

As soon as she reeled back to strike, a small girl with two long front bangs appeared, perched on her shoulder. The child stabbed a syringe into the Vasto Lorde's neck, instantaneously emptying the liquid contents into her blood stream.

"You little bitch!" the Hollow screamed and backhanded the child off of her. The girl landed in a crater of gravel several yards away, kicking up a plume of dust around her body. The Vasto Lorde reached up and yanked the syringe out of her neck. She snapped around to where the girl lay, throwing the glass instrument on the ground with a smash.

"What the fuck did you stick me with, you little whore?!" She lost interest in Byakuya and lunged for the child.

Byakuya flash-stepped in a split second, blocking the fragile child from impending death. He swung a glowing sword across one of the Hollow's massive wings, slicing a large gash through the top. She bared her teeth with a cringing screech, retreating for only a moment to give the wound a chance to heal itself.

"Ururu, are you all right?" he spoke calmly to the young girl. Her face was smeared with a mix of blood and dirt and her crushed cheek was beginning to swell. Her breathing became ragged, indicating she had broken a few ribs from the impact.

"I'm fine, Byakuya-ojisan," the timid girl smiled weakly. "That elixir should weaken the Hollow. Take your chance then."

"Thank you," he said with utmost sincerity.

Ururu gave him a sharp nod and left the scene in her own version of shunpo. From far away, Byakuya could make out the silhouettes of Urahara and Yoruichi quickly attending to the battered child.

The Vasto Lorde screamed, stretching her wings out in a shockwave of reiatsu. "No more games!" she repeated in a deranged, strained tone. "_Danzo!_"

The pulse of raw spiritual power was so strong it cracked the glowing katana in Byakuya's hand. The sword shattered, rejoining the others in its cage. The Hollow was engulfed in an orb of bright purple light, barely visible behind the shine.

Forcing himself to watch the formation, Byakuya shielded his eyes with a hand. The damaged wing instantly regenerated and the pair split into several sections like spreading eagle feathers. Her mask began to grow, covering the rest of her jaw with a set of jagged, sharp teeth. Fingers turned into long, thin points of pure white tipped with purple. The circular blade she gripped so tightly was now coated with an electric current of light.

Byakuya swallowed. His Senkei couldn't stand up to this—it could barely keep itself together as it was. The next step in his Bankai wouldn't work either since her wings acted like a barrier, easily reflecting the Goukei's sphere attack from all sides. There was only one choice left to make. Byakuya stood and calmly let the words flow out of his mouth.

"Shuukei Hakuteiken, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."

Senbonzakura's pink blades broke the cage, changing to vibrant white and reformed into a compressed sword. His remaining reiatsu erupted into the wings and halo arc of the true Hakuteiken—instead of its perverse imitation that stood before him. His robes fluttered around him, instantly picked up from the waves of spiritual power that seeped out from his body.

"Heh, pretty," the Hollow commented with a hint of sarcasm. "But it won't work."

She pounced, heading directly for him. Byakuya left his spot as well, meeting the monster halfway. She was strong, but he was stronger, and he pushed her back with ferocity. He felt her begin to lose her footing and her circular blade made a cracking noise. In that moment, Byakuya forced himself to push her further until he slammed her against the concrete of a nearby building. The pillar buckled under the intense pressure, crumbling into a crater.

"Impressive," the Vasto Lorde sneered, "But you don't have the guts to kill me."

"Do not test me, Hollow," his voice dripped icily.

"I _dare_ you," she hissed.

Byakuya pulled his arm back and shoved the glowing white blade straight through the wing he damaged earlier, pinning the creature to the concrete pillar. The Hollow cried out in a twisted scream, a mixture of metallic scraping and a woman's cry of anguish. The strike had completely blown off part of her wing and the area directly around the stab had become seared black from burning. Dark burgundy blood poured out from the edges of the wound, straining to heal itself and failing miserably.

"One false move and I will obliterate you," Byakuya's grey eyes narrowed.

The woman started chuckling before coughing and suddenly taking in a gasp of air. Her head lifted and the black of her eyes began to retreat back into her skull. The roots of her hair faded back into their normal white. With a wail, her free hand of needle-like fingers grabbed on to the jaw of her mask and pulled with all her might. The mask shattered, uncovering the now clear blue eyes of the woman. Taking heavy breaths, her eyes darted back and forth, lit up by the white brilliance of Byakuya's final Bankai step.

"Mariko?" his voice shook.

"Byakuya," she sighed out. Mariko smiled weakly and looked at his angelic form. "It's just like when we met, remember?"

Byakuya felt his heart fall. "Of course, my Love."

Mariko nuzzled her head against his nearby hand that grasped Senbonzakura's compressed shards embedded deeply in her wing. She took in a deep, unsteady breath and her eyes started trembling. She turned back to his face with real fear.

"Kill me," she pleaded.

"I cannot do that."

"I can't hold her off much longer, Byakuya. Please." She looked deep into the lightening storm of his grey eyes to find a connection. "You kill me, you kill her. You know what you need to do."

He closed his eyes tightly, desperately holding back the cry of torment that dared to escape. This was cruel—there was no other way to say it. But as much as he tried to look past it, she was right. The hollow had taken over too much of her body and soul, and not even a transfer of spiritual power could save her now. Swallowing the lump that began to form in his throat, he regretfully nodded.

"Finish it," she gently commanded. "I'm not afraid."

Hesitantly, Byakuya leaned forward, placing a final, gentle kiss on the lips of his one true love. Salt began to prick the corners of his eyes as he took one last look at the woman who managed to capture his heart over two lifetimes.

"I love you," he whispered, yanking Senbonzakura out of the wall and wrapping an arm around Mariko's waist to bring her down on her own two feet.

"I know," she smiled, "I love you, too."

Suddenly, he was behind her with his white sword tainted with bright red blood. The Senka move was swift and fast, with very little pain. Mariko's Chain of Fate and Soul Sleep were instantly severed in one step.

Byakuya turned to catch her as she fell, collapsing to his knees. He propped her head up by the crook of his arm and stroked her cheek as the light in her eyes began to fade. Hot tears escaped, falling onto her beautiful pale face.

Mariko closed her eyes as she slipped away. Her body went limp and slowly began to dissipate into petals of lilac-colored light.

"Thank you, Shinigami," he heard her say as the petals disappeared one by one.

"It's not 'Shinigami,' " he swallowed. "It's Kuchiki Byakuya." He reached out, catching one of the lights in his hand. He held on to it as it soon dissolved into nothing like the others.

And then she was gone.

Byakuya kept his hand out in front of him as if he could hold on to her for just a few moments longer. An invisible weight dropped on his shoulders and he let out a harsh sob, then took in a deep, unsteady breath. As his vision faded into nothingness, the sound of Rukia calling his name echoed faintly in his mind.

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

One more chapter to go, so it's not quite at the end yet :-)

JasoTheArtisan gets cookies for proof-reading.

I've uploaded a drawing of Mariko's back tattoo on my deviantART page. You can find the link on my profile summary. :-D

Glossary of Terms:_  
Danzo_ = Dance

Hollow Mariko's fighting style was modeled after Tira from Soul Calibur IV.  
Her ability to use ice was imprinted onto her from Rukia, as is calling out "Danzo" like Rukia does for her shikai.  
And yes, she was very primal and pervy, lol...


	23. Last Snow

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does. However, Original Characters belong to me.**

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Rukia sat patiently at her brother's side with her tiny hand clasped over his. He looked so frail, so worn. The luster had all but disappeared from his midnight locks and his pale skin had faded to a sickly grey. Captain Unohana had guaranteed that Byakuya was physically healthy, but all other signs pointed otherwise.

It all happened so fast that the information was almost too much to digest. The elixir Urahara had mixed allowed Mariko to overcome the Vasto Lorde, even if only for a moment. Rukia was still bleeding but determined to help once she felt her sister's spirit flicker back into existence. She saw Mariko's physical form take shape and Byakuya leaned down to kiss her, but then he slashed through her with a quick Senka step and she fell, dying in his arms. Rukia's face went from smiling through tears to shaking from a combination of shock, grief and confusion.

She watched as Mariko's spirit dissipated into petals of lilac light and rushed towards the unmoving silhouette of Byakuya. His name tore out of her lips as she cursed at him for striking her only sister down. It took a moment for her to realize her words were falling on deaf ears. She shook him by his shoulders, but his normally deep grey eyes had glazed over in an unfocused stare, watching his wife's life float away in the breeze.

Urahara was quick on the scene, assessing the damage that had been done. His expression fell into disappointment at the sight of Byakuya's catatonic state. With a short kidou incantation, he rendered Byakuya's physical body unconscious and gave orders Rukia to take him back to Soul Society. He had prepared a gate ahead of time for a worse case scenario—unfortunately his assumptions were right. A sharp nod and Ichigo was by her side, bracing Byakuya's limp frame around his shoulders.

'_He needs you to be strong right now, Kuchiki-san,'_ Urahara spoke to her with concern. _'Be strong for him.'_

She nodded through tears, taking in a deep breath. They stepped through the gate between worlds with a burst of shunpo. Rukia only had one mission now—to care for her brother the way he had cared for her. She stole a look at his tired face as they flash-stepped through the dark hallway. His rest was not peaceful and his head was growing feverish. She whispered a prayer of hope for him as the light from Soul Society came into vision.

Rukia felt her eyes droop and shook her head to wake up.

"Hey midget," a tired male voice said behind her. A strong, calloused hand rubbed the base of her neck, lightly relaxing the tense muscles. She reached up and placed a free hand over it with a shaky sigh.

"You need to get some rest," Ichigo spoke gentle persuasion. "You've been here for what, fifty-something hours straight? Have you eaten anything?"

"I'm fine," Rukia said flatly.

"You're not fine. You look like hell."

"Thanks." She didn't even narrow her eyes or hint at sarcasm.

Ichigo frowned and breathed a sigh of irritation. It was pointless to argue with her when she wasn't in the mood. _Stubborn woman._ He left a tray of hot food next to her and leaned down, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head. His exiting footsteps echoed in the large empty room of Kuchiki Manor. Rukia swallowed and gripped Byakuya's cold hand tighter.

"Please wake up, Nii-sama," she said in a low voice. "Please…just wake up."

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Byakuya stood alone in a never-ending white room. His footsteps made no noise as he wandered through the vast emptiness. Every so often he thought he heard a voice, but he didn't have the motivation to seek out where it came from. He searched for a direction for hours moving through the mist and not finding a single outlet. At this point he wasn't sure he even wanted to find a way out.

His physical body was numb to cold and pain. It was quiet and peaceful, a gentle change from the harsh realities of the world he had been in before.

The world he had been in before…he honestly couldn't remember what that was like. It was more a feeling rather than a memory. Outside of this white room, everything else was full of pain and anguish. Now he was sure he didn't want to go through that again.

"It's cold here,"a female voice sounded far away.

Byakuya whipped around at the first clear words he had heard since he entered this world. His eyes squinted and found a thin woman with long hair sitting on a thick root underneath a dying tree. She looked up at him with sad pink tinted eyes, her traditional Geisha makeup fading and smeared from tears. Her black hair fell in limp strands now streaked with white hairs, significantly aging the immortal being. Her red, pink and yellow silk kimono wrapped around her trim frame, unkempt with a loose white embroidered obi.

'_I know you,'_ Byakuya thought. _'How do I know you?'_

With a nod of her head, the being motioned him to come forward. She inhaled sharply as he approached, steadying her posture to compose her typically gracious demeanor. She folded her hands delicately in her lap and tilted her chin up to his height. "What happened?"

"That is what I want to know."

"This world is dying, Byakuya-sama. And so are you."

"How do you know my—" he stopped short as his grey eyes went wide as he slowly reconnected the shatter pieces of his memories.

"Senbonzakura."

His zanpaktou spirit closed her eyes in relief and the empty white blanket around them dropped, dissipating like paper shreds being carried off by a strong wind. He was back in his spirit world, but it was not vibrant and filled with thriving plants as it had always been—it was cold and a thick layer of snow covered the ground. The exposed tree root Senbonzakura was sitting on led to the center tree of his once flourishing forest. Instead of a constant stream of blooming cherry blossoms, empty twigs of the fading truck took its place. Only a few petals with frosted tips remained, clinging on to the branches with all their might.

All at once, a rush of memories came crashing down onto him, flashing in his vision as a rapid slideshow. His eyes trembled as he was pounded with the most recent turn of events. The final motions of the deadly blow he delivered to his wife played over and over again. The shock filled his stomach with a foul acid, nearly bringing him to his knees.

"Oh Gods, what have I done?" Byakuya's voice shook. His vision blurred and he closed his eyes tightly to gain focus. In his state, something dawned on him that he hadn't considered before. He shifted a fierce gaze to her pink-brown eyes.

"What have _you_ done?"

"Excuse me?" The spirit arched a thin black eyebrow.

"You could have stopped me," he argued. "You've stopped me before."

"I would have stopped you if you willed it, Byakuya-sama. But you stayed true to the path."

"I killed my own wife!"

"It was the right thing to do."

"It was an ultimatum, not a choice." Byakuya balled a fist to control his confliction emotions. He was struggling to think rationally, to come up with a reason why he followed through with it. There had to have been a way to save her.

A vision of Mariko's final request echoed like a wave across his eyes. She was horrified of what she had become, torn between wanting to be with him, and relieved that it would finally be all over. The look of relief on her face after the Senka step was unafraid and peaceful. She knew what the power of his Bankai would do to her spirit, and yet she was not afraid to face a world that had no tomorrow. The massive force that cut through her Chain of Fate and Soul Sleep did more damage than negating the Vasto Lorde—it completely obliterated her soul.

No more death…

No more rebirth…

She was gone.

Byakuya looked out into the frozen pond. "She's really gone now, isn't she?"

"The cycle has ended." Senbonzakura stood and placed a slender hand on his shoulder. "But not all hope is lost. The rest is up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're giving up," she shook her head sadly. "Our world is dying."

"I do not deserve a life after what I have done."

"There is still hope."

"Stop saying that," Byakuya spun, shoving her hand off his shoulder in the process. He stared down at her, his smoldering grey eyes burning into the pink irises of his inner counterpart.

"Never," she met his gaze straight on. "There is always hope."

"I do not see the world as you do, Senbonzakura. I could only pray to understand the weave in which our lives are dictated. How can I see hope when all I see is the face of the love I slaughtered?"

Senbonzakura let out a harsh gasp as a petal broke free from the dying tree and floated away into the never-ending white snow. She hardened her eyes and pointed a long finger back at him.

"You are such the fool, Byakuya-sama, and you always have been." She tilted her head up and let her streaked hair flow with the wind.

"Can't you feel it?" she smiled, the cherry red lipstick barely visible on her mouth. Her face grew warm and genuine, small crow's feet pricking the corner of her eyes. With an open palm, she stretched out her hand for him to follow.

"Come with me. I would like to show you something. I may not be able to see the world as you do, but perhaps this can help explain."

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Ichigo stood outside Byakuya's quarters resisting the urge to charge in there and shove food down Rukia's throat or render her unconscious so she could finally get some rest. It was a futile effort at any rate. When that stubborn woman made up her mind, the argument was over. He felt his teeth clench and spun on his heel to leave before he did something stupid—and then he'd never hear the end of it.

The sun was setting over the walls of Kuchiki Manor when Ichigo found his way out into an adjacent garden. He didn't even stop to admire the beauty of the tranquil landscape, although he was sure if he did, he'd burn a hole in the plants from the frustration boiling under his skin. A gentle breeze blew through the trees and suddenly he drew his sword, pointing the large cleaver directly at a nearby cluster of flowers.

"Oi, settle down, boy. You're gonna slice one of my whiskers off," a deep masculine voice scolded from behind the brush. Shining golden eyes peeked out from between light blue Chinese bellflowers, followed closely by two black cat ears.

"Yoruichi," Ichigo huffed. He closed his amber eyes with irritation and lightly shook his head, placing Zangetsu in its resting place on his back. "Why are you sneaking around like that? You're not an exile anymore."

"Yeah, but it's more fun to sneak past Byakuya's guards this way," the feline emerged from the dense garden with a grin, trotting towards the orange-haired Shinigami. The teen let out a tense sigh and sat on the edge of the porch, stretching his legs out in an undignified position. Yoruichi gracefully hopped up onto the wooden ledge and settled down right next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the sky change into vibrant tones of pink and orange as the stars began to show their light.

"How is he?" Yoruichi spoke up.

"I dunno," Ichigo titled his head, focusing his gaze on the ground. "Physically Byakuya's fine, but mentally… " he shrugged as his voice trailed off. The corner of his mouth quirked a disappointing grimace.

"Rukia hasn't left his side since we brought him back. She won't eat, won't sleep…idiot midget." With a scoff, he planted his chin on his hand, propping an elbow up on his knee. "What the hell happened back there?"

The black cat licked a paw and scrubbed it across the bridge of her nose. "What we were afraid was going to happen…we were too late. Akon did come up with a brilliant elixir to suppress the Vasto Lorde, but it was a lengthy process and it wasn't finished in time. However, once she was in Hollow form, theoretically it would have weakened its spiritual power—which it did, thankfully." She paused, glancing up at Ichigo.

"But you know, out of all of this, what surprised me the most was Ururu. That girl was so insistent that we try to administer the treatment, even if it was just a theory. She kept going on and on about her 'Byakuya-ojisan' and how he would find a way to save Mariko." Yoruichi rolled her large gold eyes in mild amusement.

"Little brat stole the formula and darted off before we could stop her. At that point all Kisuke and I could do was try to keep up. Stupid child," she let out a proud smirk.

Ichigo swallowed, ashamed with himself at how Ururu's wellbeing slipped his mind. He had only gotten a glimpse of her as she flash-stepped away from the rubble, but he could tell then that she was badly injured. "How is she?" he managed to squeak out.

The cat cracked a toothy grin. "Completely back to normal, except for her weird idolization for that tight-ass Byakuya."

"Good," the young man let out a relieved chuckle, "I'm glad."

Yoruichi nodded and looked over her shoulder blade towards Byakuya's room. "You know, he's going to shred you when he finds out you've been crashing at his place this whole time."

"Yeah well, I'll make sure to have Zangetsu drawn out when he wakes up."

"Yeah," the Shihouin princess sighed, "when he wakes up." The duo glanced back to the deathly quiet hallway, hoping their words were the truth.

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Byakuya eyed Senbonzakura with slight confusion, taken aback by her change in attitude. He had long since learned to trust the spirit, even if she had odd demands. After all, she was the best and worst pieces of himself—an even blend of stubbornness, passionate rash behavior, and logical thinking. She had faith in him when no one else could and pushed him to reach the extra mile. So, when she turned and began walking through the snow, he followed.

"Do you see it?" she called back to his frame straggling in the distance. Snow was falling heavily now, hindering his vision. He picked up a hand to shield his eyes from the ice and squinted to make out Senbonzakura's dark locks against the white sky. He spotted her on a nearby hill, pointing a red kimono sleeve out into the void. With each trudging step, he forced himself to move on until he was standing by her side.

"I don't see anything," he sighed with mild irritation.

"Because you are _looking_, not seeing," Senbonzakura countered. "You look with your eyes. You _see_ with your heart."

Byakuya thought about her words for a moment, then closed his eyes to calm his blood. He brought himself down into a deep meditation in search of what he had lost—the piece of his own soul that had been struck down. If notions such as soul mates did exist, then in destroying Mariko, he also killed a part of him. Falling slowly, he swam in the sea of memories to find it. Out of the corner of his eye, hiding far beyond normal reach, a ping of lilac light flashed. He grabbed it and held on, bringing it up to the surface.

When he opened his storm grey eyes, he could see—truly see—what was in front of him. On a hilltop not far away stood a strong, young tree blossoming against all odds. Its trunk was the purest white like an elegant birch tree and it flowered with light purple cherry blossoms. It refused to bend with the wind, pointing its branches in the opposite direction. The falling snow didn't dare to come near its petals, instead diverting their path around the tree, forming a circle. Green grass sprouted on the ground between the white tree's exposed roots.

A single petal fell and carried itself to the hill where Senbonzakura and Byakuya stood. He snatched it out of the air and rubbed the thin velvety texture between his fingers. Unlike the frigid world around him, it was warm and glowing with life. He inhaled the floral scent of jasmine from the blossom and the sensation sent a tranquil shiver down his spine.

"How?" he said in a low tone. "How is this possible?"

Senbonzakura gave him a soft smile. "As I said before, not all hope is lost."

This time, Byakuya led the way up the rolling hill with his zanpaktou spirit in tow. With each step towards to tree, his strength felt as if it was returning. Senbonzakura's white strands of hair turned back into their usual black and her geisha makeup became fresh. When they reached the top of the mound, they stopped and stood in awe of the vibrant display.

Up close, the petals were more brilliant than they had been in the distance. The trunk, branches, and roots were more than just white—they hummed a low pulse of light throughout the grain. Byakuya glanced at Senbonzakura, now fully restored to her natural beauty, and she gave him a nod of approval. He approached the tree, reaching out with a hand to touch its glowing white bark. He hesitated for a moment, pulling back, but ultimately decided to follow through.

He hitched a breath as the life of the tree flowed into his fingertips with a familiar sensation. All happy memories, the short-lived bouts of delight, everything he had ever shared with his wife over her two lifetimes surged through him, making his heart swell with pure joy.

"Can you feel it now?" Senbonzakura spoke with understanding. "You _did_ save her, Byakuya-sama. As a piece of you lived within her, a piece of her now lives within you. She can finally be at peace now, forever a part of this world—the strongest part that holds you together in your most desperate hour."

"Mariko," he whispered to the tree. "Hisana… My wife… My love…

"I will not give up. I promise.

"For you… for family."

The tree pulsed—once lowly, then twice more, the light growing stronger with each wave. Suddenly Byakuya was bathed in a blinding white light that stretched to the far reaches of his spirit world. The snow on the ground melted away, flowing down into the creek that flowed into the pond. The ice on the pond cracked, sinking into the clear blue water. The center cherry tree blossomed with new life, immediately sprouting new flowers of pink tipped with lilac roots. After all had been restored, the white tree's light hummed down into low undertone, still surging with energy. It stood proudly in the rolling hills, now larger than it had previously been.

"I will not give up," Byakuya repeated, tracing a groove in the tree's bark.

"I promise."

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Something warm and soft was clasped around his hand. Byakuya cracked his eyes open into the harsh mid-afternoon light to find himself lying in bed back in Kuchiki Manor. He rolled his head over, immediately recognizing the bright orange hair of a _certain_ reckless Shinigami, sitting with his back against a wall. To his credit though, Ichigo looked distressed, keeping his eyes on someone else in the room. Byakuya shifted his gaze to find Rukia in a seated position with her eyes closed in a gentle snooze. Her dark hair was ruffled and she looked as if she hadn't had any restful sleep in days. A tray of cold food sat next to her. He lightly shook his head in disapproval.

"Rukia," he spoke with an air of command.

The young Shinigami snapped her head up and her violet eyes instantly opened. She assessed her surroundings before looking down to find her brother awake. "Nii-sama!"

"Rukia, why haven't you eaten?"

"I… um, Nii-sama… I…"

"Do not stammer," he scolded. "It is unbecoming of a Kuchiki."

"Y—Yes, Nii-sama." Rukia lowered her surprised eyes in a hint of shame.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Four days, Nii-sama."

"And have you been here the entire time?"

"Yes, Nii-sama."

"I see." Byakuya shifted his weight to sit up. Rukia reached her arms out to help. To her surprise, he accepted it willingly. He held on to her arms and looked deep into her amethyst eyes. Suddenly he pulled her in, holding her close to his chest. Rukia was immediately baffled by his impulsive turn in affection, but soon relaxed and returned his embrace.

"Thank you," he spoke lowly next to her ear. "You never give up on me, do you?"

"Of course not, Nii-sama," Rukia smiled. "You're family."

"Yes," Byakuya said as he looked at his sister and the man she loved, a faint smile coming to his lips.

"Family."

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**Please READ & REVIEW!  
**

Well this story has come to a close... thanks so much for sticking with it!

Special thanks to **JasoTheArtisan** for being a kick-ass beta!  
And to **Saigo no Hime** for incredible reviews that actually aided in the development of this story when I ran into a wall.

Of course all my consistent reviews are totally awesome too, glomps for everyone!

That's it for this story, but I'll be making a Hollow Mariko drawing sometime soon, so you can get your fix that way ;-)

Hugs and Smoochies,  
F1yMordecai


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